


Killer's Little Black Book

by Kasbaka



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Food Kink, Kinky Guide Book, Knifeplay, Overstimulation, Piercings, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Sacrum Lacing, Sadism, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:28:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28192446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kasbaka/pseuds/Kasbaka
Summary: Opening the door and seeing Killer sprawled across his bed didn’t surprise him as much as it probably should have. What did catch his attention was whatever Killer was playing with in his hands. Something with blood on it? No, not blood, just a red string.Killer finds a 'How to' guidebook of kinky exploits and can't wait to try some of them out with the rest of the crew.
Relationships: Dust/Horror, Horror/Cross, Killer/Dust, Killer/Horror, Kross - Relationship, Nightmare/Bad Sans Poly, Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 82
Kudos: 259





	1. Sacrum Lacing

The knife slashed down with brutal and precise efficiency; the target completely unaware until it was too late. The soul shattered and the remaining dust coated the small couch in a grim blanket.

Killer didn’t mind an easy job now and then. He had his fair share of adrenaline inducing fights. Sometimes it was nice to kick back and be a little lazy. In fact, he probably had a few minutes to spare before the Boss opened up another portal for him to return.

He strolled around the couch, flopping onto it with complete disregard for the plume of dust that resulted. He sighed happily, wiggling himself deeper into the cushioning with the intention of enjoying a small nap.

Except something was annoyingly digging into his hip. He reached into the cushion to pull out the offending item; a small black book. He raised a questioning brow at it, flipping to a random page in the middle without much attention. He paused, his eyes widening in curious interest at the pictures inside. He flipped through a few pages, slower now, taking in the information the little book offered.

A few of the pages had been dogeared and there were little notes written alongside many of the margins. It was obviously a well-loved little book. Killer flipped another page and grinned. He ran his fingers along the image of a skeleton monster, his imagination running rampant.

Well, wasn’t this interesting…

The room chilled and darkened, signaling the end of Killer’s time here. He snapped the book shut, tucking it into his inventory for later.

He jumped up from the couch with renewed energy, his grin honest as he walked through the portal. He was eager to return home. He just hoped his little buddy didn’t keep him waiting too long.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Cross sighed as he trudged through the castle corridors. He was exhausted and in desperate need of a shower and some food. Running into the Star Sanses was a surefire way to wipe him of any energy he might have had; all he wanted was to crash. He slouched against his door as he fiddled with the key, debating whether food or bathing could wait until the morning.

Opening the door and seeing Killer sprawled across his bed didn’t surprise him as much as it probably should have. In fact, he was too exhausted to find himself caring at all, so long as the bastard scooched over enough for him to sleep. What did catch his attention was whatever Killer was playing with in his hands. Something with blood on it? No, not blood, just a red string.

Whatever.

Killer turned his attention towards him as he entered, shutting the door behind him. He had enough company already, thanks; not like the door ever stopped anyone before but why stop trying.

“Heya, Crossy!”

Cross grumbled an indecipherable noise, trudging to the bed and promptly flopping face down onto it. Unsurprisingly, Killer didn’t move, forcing Cross to squish against him to avoid falling off the bed altogether.

“I found something interesting the other day. Wanna see?”

Cross grumbled his dissent into the pillow, something akin to, _“Nu-m’sleep-mmph.”_

He could feel Killer shrug, surprisingly agreeable, “Alright.”

Huh, no jabs, arguments, or protests? No teasing or pestering? No threats of bodily harm? Cross wasn’t going to question good fortune when it came his way. He wrapped his arms around his pillow and sighed as he waited for the blissful emptiness of sleep to overtake him.

…

And waited.

…

He shifted what little he could in his limited space.

…

Oh, what the fuck?

Cross huffed, agitated. He turned until he was on his back, shoving against Killer until he finally moved enough for them to fit side by side. “Alright, fine, what did you find?” Cross relented.

“Ha, knew it. You can never sleep right after a mission,” Killer reached under his own pillow (dirty pillow stealer, Cross finally bought an extra for when Killer crashed here) and pulled out a leather covered book. It looked almost like it could be someone’s journal, the edges were worn from frequent handling. He took it from Killer, opening the book to the first page where the title was displayed.

** KINKY ESCAPADES **

**Keeping your sex life alive!**

A guide for monsters of all types and experience levels

“…Seriously, a sex book?” Cross skipped through to the first chapter, a slight blush coating his face. “Oh, uhh--there’s diagrams. That sure is…helpful.” He vaguely felt Killer shifting around in the bed but couldn’t seem to pull his eyes away from the imagery in front of him. Not only were there pictures, but also detailed instructions, tips, and tricks. And apparently the previous owner left their own notations as well.

Cross could feel the heat starting to gather in his bones at the thought of what was further in this little book of mischief. Without warning he was subject to Killer’s weight climbing onto his lap, straddling him.

“Wait, shit, Killer--” Cross lowered the book and was met with the sight of a barebones Killer, an excited grin plastered across his face. He gasped as the other began rocking their pelvises together, giving Cross no time to adjust to the onslaught of heat and pleasant pressure. His body was happy to remind him of how long it had been since they’d fooled around, amping up without his permission at the deep steady grind.

Killer looked down at him and chuckled, a sound that always carried a bit of a manic edge, even on good days. He blushed a furious purple, cursing his body for being too easy. All thoughts of sleep had been drained from him, replaced with the steadily increasing swirl of magic gathering in his pelvis.

Killer lifted the book again in front of Cross without losing his pace. “Look at this page,” he turned to one of the dogeared pages blindly and Cross couldn’t help but wonder if he’d read through the entire book already. He grasped the book tightly to avoid dropping it, although it was becoming more of a challenge to focus on anything except the way Killer was riding him.

“Haah--hnng-! Ohh, h-hey…a skeleton monster…wha--?” He was looking at the image but it took a moment to process what exactly he was seeing. He was getting ridiculously close just from this. The way Killer rhythmically rocked against him, pushing his body against the bedding was oddly soothing. He could close his eyes and let his imagination run wild while he was pushed over the edge. Killer wouldn’t let him live it down, but he couldn’t stop his magic from dropping--

“Uh-uh-uh Crossy,” a sharp pinch to his symphysis stopped the sudden gathering of magic in its tracks.

“Ah-!”

Killer unrelentingly increased the pressure of his thumb on the sensitive cartilage. Cross grabbed at his arm, not fighting him but trying to force the pain to give him that final shove into orgasmic bliss. If only his stupid clothes weren’t in the way, he could force Killer’s hand into his pelvic inlet and finish himself on the bastard’s fist!

“Aww, little wound up there? Did you save yourself for me while you were away? No late-night dalliances with the locals to take care of things?” Killer let go of his symphysis in favor of roughly grabbing his ribs through his clothing. He leaned into Cross’s space and Cross tilted his head up thinking Killer was about to kiss him. The smiling bastard stopped just short, nuzzling their teeth together before moving to whisper in his acoustic meatus. “That’s because you know that no one will ever take care of you like I do-- right Cross? Now, look at this.”

Killer leaned back and this time held the book himself in front of Cross. He hadn’t even realized he’d dropped it. He panted lightly, forcing himself to focus on the page in front of him. It was a skeleton monster, leaning back with their hips held in someone’s lap. The undisclosed partner was weaving some kind of thread through their sacral foramen. All of a sudden, the reason Killer had been playing with string was startlingly clear.

“Y-You wanna do this to me?” Cross didn’t know how his body would react to that kind of stimulation. Was it painful? Nobody had ever penetrated him there before; he gulped with anxiousness at the thought. Killer lowered the book and tilted his head in a slow inquisitive motion. The string in question was dragged lightly across his chest in front of his vision, it’s seductive promises enrapturing him.

“No, you’re doing this to me.”

“Wha--really?” He looked again at the image in the book and struggled to picture Killer in that position. He had a tendency to get rather aggressive in bed, to say the least. To have him dazed and trembling, gripping the sheets while Cross worked him over; he’d practically be at Cross’s mercy that way. He couldn’t even pretend that the thought of it didn’t just send a throbbing pulse to his pelvis.

“You’re, um, gonna have to get off me,” Cross cursed how unsure his own voice sounded but it only made Killer’s smirk sharper as he slid off and resumed his place at Cross’s side. The smaller skeleton sat up onto his knees, moving the book into a position that he could reference it. Killer lounged casually, draping his arms behind his head as he watched.

Cross reached for Killer’s hips, hesitating as they hovered over the bone; it would be his luck that this was meant to throw him off his guard and Killer actually had more sinister plans. He shook his head to clear the thought and grabbed him firmly by his iliac crests, pulling his pelvis up into his lap. Killer was watching him with an amused look, as if he could read Cross’s conflict on his face.

 _‘I’ll wipe that smug look off your stupid face…”_ He grabbed the string, determined to start unwinding the other when he immediately hit a hitch.

“Uh, the book says there’s supposed to be a thing on the end of this. An aglet? Otherwise, it’ll fray and not fit,” Cross pointed out.

“Oh right, how silly of me,” Killer reached over the side of the bed and pulled forth a needle that had been stuck into the mattress. He held it up for Cross, “There ya go, this’ll do fine.”

“What the hell? That’s really sharp, what if it scrapes the bone?”

“You’ll just do well to remember that karma’s a bitch. Now get to it before I change my mind and just choke you on my dick,” Killer said with a smile. Cross grumbled, knowing it wasn’t an idle threat. He threaded the string through the needle. He considered pointing out that doing things this way forced the string to double up, but ultimately decided that was going to be Killer’s problem, not his.

He took the needle and traced the outline of an uppermost foramen. The string looked so sizable in comparison and Cross’s own breath stuttered at the thought of how it would feel to have the small holes rubbed and filled. He pushed the tip through easily, gripping it from the other side and pulled the string through in a long slow drag. He tensed in anticipation of having Killer melt in his hands from the stimulation.

…

Cross glanced up only to meet Killer’s sinister smirk.

“You’re gonna have to try a lot harder than that, Crossy.”

_‘Oh fuck.’_

With wide eyes Cross quickly moved onto the next space, threading the needle through as before and pulling the string up until it was pressed snug against his sacrum. He felt Killer’s rumbling chuckle more than he heard it. Did he not feel anything? Was all of this just an elaborate display to show Cross how untouchable he was? The sacral foramina were some of the most sensitive spots on a skeleton monster; filling bone in a way that it couldn’t be almost anywhere else.

He steadied his hands and referenced the little book beside him. He crossed the string, threading another hole. Just looking at it sent a pang of sympathetic pleasure to Cross’s pelvis. He wouldn’t live it down if he got off from watching while Killer sat here completely unaffected, laughing at how easy he was. His string caught on the bone in his momentary distraction; he reflexively tugged against it to correct it, causing it to drag further through the previous two holes.

That was when he noticed it. The sudden tenseness in Killer’s joints. He’d barely felt it, but with the way Killer was in his lap, it was just enough. Curious, Cross pulled on the string, dragging it back slowly. Killer’s fist clenched from where it lay deceptively relaxed behind his head, not expecting the change in direction. His legs tightened around Cross’s waist, giving him a delightful squeeze. But best of all was the little choked off noise that escaped him; it was music to Cross’s ears.

He was going to drag every last bit of it out of him.

Reinvigorated, he pushed the needle through the next hole quickly, dragging the string through the new space while pulling back on the threaded ones. He didn’t want to give Killer a chance to collect himself. He was going to _wreck him_.

Killer slammed his fist onto the mattress so suddenly that Cross flinched, thinking he was going to be hit. Rather, the sheet was twisted in an unforgiving grip. Cross stared for a moment before he realized he was still holding pressure on the string and relaxed it. Killer’s body loosened as he did so, his breath coming in light pants.

“...heh...hehe...Crossy...Do your fucking worst...” his voice was as tight as Cross’s throat.

He’d drop dead before saying it out loud, but Killer looked good like this. His magic was swirling in his pelvis and Cross couldn’t help but want to play with it; run his fingers through the thickness of it before it formed anything, or coax it into something for his own use. He wanted to edge Killer until he was a whimpering mess. He wanted to make him beg Cross for his release. He wanted to push him into the mattress and make him take it nice and slow and draw out more pretty noises.

With hands shaking from anticipation, Cross circled the needle around the next foramen. The bottom sets were so much smaller. He dipped the tip of it in and out a few times, letter Killer feel the pressure build without knowing when Cross would push him. Too careless in his excitement, he felt it the moment he accidentally scraped the needle down the overly sensitive bone.

“AH--fuck!” Killer yelled, his spine arched in a painful looking bend.

“Shit! I’m sorry--!”

Killer grabbed him by his shirt collar, dragging him down so they were face to face, “Do it again!”

“W-Wha-?”

“I said do it again!” Killer let him go, dropping back against the mattress. Cross could feel the way his bones were shaking. They were hot to the touch as he dragged the needle tip down the bone, the scrape surely something that Killer would be feeling for days.

“Ah-ahh, fuck you Cross-! Ohh fuck-!”

Cross pulled the string through as Killer threw his head back and writhed. This was exactly what he wanted. He’d been so engrossed in watching the scene in front of him that he hadn’t notice the stiffness in his pants until now. It was uncomfortably tight and he rubbed himself against Killer’s pelvis for some relief.

A glance down at the little book beside him showed him he’d royally screwed up the pattern already, whoops. That’s alright, Killer seemed too preoccupied to notice. He squinted to see the small marginal notes.

PULLING THE RIBBON GENTLY IS ALRIGHT BUT TOO TIGHTLY CAUSES PAIN  
LESS IS MORE! LACING EVERY FORAMINA IS SOMETIMES TOO OVERWHELMING

Cross considered the author’s scribbled notes and the three remaining sacral holes. Killer’s body trembled but he glared with a delighted mania at Cross. He looked as if he were considering flipping their positions and devouring Cross right then and there.

A matching manic grin spread across Cross’s face, _‘I don’t think you’ve had enough yet, buddy.’_

He pressed his thumbs firmly against the threaded holes, rubbing them in small circles that he knew teased the string inside. He held eye contact with Killer, who’s trembling body didn’t match the fierceness of his stare. It was a battle of intent that Killer couldn’t win. Cross was too determined to unravel him, relentless as he dug his fingertips roughly into the filled holes.

“Hnng-!” The noise Killer made was pained as he clenched his eyes shut and a mean swell of victory filled Cross at the sight.

The needle dangled heedlessly in Killer’s pelvis within the swirl of his magic that couldn’t form with all the disturbance. Cross took it in hand, dragging it through the magic, tracing dancing little patterns in a teasing graze. He drew it downward, and impulsively scraped the needle in a sharp line up the sensitive cartilage of Killer’s symphysis.

Killer couldn’t seem to catch his breath. He’d torn holes into the sheets with his clawing. With every arch of his back their pelvises rubbed together, and only Cross’s fierce enjoyment kept him from pulling out his cock and finishing himself all over his work.

Cross leaned over Killer and chuckled to himself as he pushed the needle into the next foramen. There was no warning, no preamble, just the satisfying pull of the string through bone and the sweet sound of Killer’s accompanying scream. Cross shivered with it, glancing again at the book and the way the image wrapped the thread cutely around the tip of the coccyx before threading the final set and tying off into a bow.

“I bet Horror heard you, do you think he’ll come join me?” Cross whispered, as if overcome by the need to be quiet. He wrapped the string as he’d seen in the book, not quite as precisely since he’d messed up earlier, but good enough to keep it in place. “He’d barge in, like you all do, and see you completely and utterly at my mercy,” he was rambling, completely unlike himself. Something about it was such a rush, dominating over the monster who so often enjoyed tormenting him.

“He can tie the rest of you up and we can share you. You ever let him take a bite outta you, Killer? I wanna hear you scream some more,” Cross began to push through another space, but was shocked still by the tight grip suddenly around his neck.

Killer chuckled, quiet and ominous. He squeezed Cross’s neck unforgivingly, sending a dizzying wave of darkness across his eyelights as his body struggled to adjust to the sudden air deprivation. Killer leaned up on his other arm and Cross could still feel the unsteady trembling in him.

“Quite the little fantasy you’ve got there. Too bad all Horror’s gonna see is me using you exactly how I wanna use you. And when I’m done, I’m gonna serve you on a silver platter to him,” Killer’s grip tightened and while Cross’s body seized up in distress, he couldn’t help the hard wave of arousal that pulsed through him. While Cross’s own horny ramblings were fantastical nonsense, Killer’s dripped in truth. He knew the menacing monster would have no qualms about using Cross to get off before dragging him down to the dining hall and offering him up to whoever wanted a bite.

It was frustrating, aggravating, and quite frankly hot as fuck.

Cross shoved the needle through hastily, fumbling as his vision wavered, and roughly forced the string through the smallest sacral hole. Killer’s entire body tightened, trapping Cross between his legs and by the neck. He was going to kill him; he’d come down from this and wake up in a pile of Cross’s dust.

_‘I wonder if Killer actually ever murdered someone while fucking them…’_

Guess he was going to find out. Can’t make it too easy for him though. Cross grabbed both ends of the thread and yanked against them tight enough to drag Killer’s pelvis to the mattress.

“AHH--! Fuck! You little--motherfucker--!”

That was more like it; the pretentious bastard- Cross was going to fuck him up. He roughly ground himself against Killer as his vision blackened, the tight grip on his neck the only steadying factor. He could feel Killer fighting to thrust against him, but his grip on the string was unwavering. Killer’s tortured gasps sounded pained and Cross knew he was close.

A final brutal tug against the thread before he felt it snap and the shredded pieces wrench through Killer’s sacrum. He screamed as he came, dragging Cross on top of him as his body was wracked with violent shudders. His grip on the smaller skeleton’s neck finally slackened, and Cross gasped for air.

He thinks he’s shaking just as badly as Killer is, the sound of their bones rattling and heavy panting filling the room. He doesn’t have the energy to cringe at the stickiness in his pants, he needed a shower anyways. Later.

He pulled himself upward enough to reach Killer’s face. His sockets were shut and he looked as ready to fall asleep as Cross felt. Cross grabbed his chin and pressed a tired, messy kiss to his mouth. It was their thing afterwards, and he wasn’t going to skip out on it just because he was bone-tired.

Settling in with his face on Killer’s shoulder, his body draped across him, would probably be regrettable after a few hours. As his eyes slipped shut, he could see the little book still beside them, despite their roughhousing. The image of the skeleton monster lounging back, a pleased and euphoric look on their face, made Cross hum thoughtfully as he drifted to sleep.

_‘I don’t think…this was quite what they had in mind…’_


	2. Praise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes a little bit of encouragement goes a long way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be warned of dubious consent for this chapter! Nobody asks Cross if he wants to play, even if the answer is yes in the end.

"Praise is the act of complimenting another. A monster’s intent plays heavily into how the praise is received, as well as the partner’s past experiences in being praised. Genuine praise is always preferable and elicits a stronger emotional reaction, resulting in greater arousal and a more enjoyable experience."

Killer sat cross-legged on his bed as he read. This was more involved than he’d figured it would be. Who knew that there were so many different types of praise? Physical, emotional, pet play (hmm, color him curious on that one, it references another chapter) and details strategies for approaching each. It must have been a favorite of the original owner as well, as the notations were so numerous that they covered every bit of blank space on the page.

COMPLIMENT ATTEMPTS AS MUCH AS SUCCESSES!

OFFER A GIFT ALONG WITH A COMPLIMENT! MAKE SURE IT’S PERSONALIZED!

SHY MONSTERS ENJOY COMPLIMENTS TOO, EVEN IF THEY CAN’T ALWAYS EXPRESS IT!

He hummed to himself, contemplative. He could see the appeal in this one. Sometimes the Boss would offer up some praise if he was in a particularly good mood, and Killer often found himself willing to go above and beyond to hear the satisfaction in Nightmare’s voice when he was pleased.

But that was work and this was play. Not quite the same.

He paused, a thought coming to mind. Slowly, his natural smirk sharpened, a delighted chuckle escaping him.

 _'But perhaps not so different…_ ’

~*~*~*~*~*~

Cross sighed as he meandered back to his room from his recent shower, his worn towel wrapped snug around him. It was one of life’s little pleasures, turning the water as hot as it would go and letting it chase away the persistent chill that always permeated the air of the castle. It left him pleasantly tired and he weighed the possibility of skipping dinner entirely in favor of turning in early. He entered his room, grabbing a clean pair of clothes when he spotted the post-it note.

_Crossy - go to the garden_

_Or don’t_

He grumbled to himself. Killer’s notes were always frustratingly vague. He’d been summoned in the past for anything from ‘got a new movie’ to ‘we’re going on a job, we’ll be gone for a month.’

The last line gave him pause. It was the illusion of choice; if he didn’t go, something unpredictably worse would happen. But it also indicated the origin of the summons likely wasn’t from Nightmare himself. And the gardens weren’t Killer’s normal stomping ground, which puzzled him. Too many unknowns, not enough information.

Either way, turning in early suddenly wasn’t an option. May as well see what Killer wanted before the bastard got too bored and found a more devious way to entertain himself.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The gardens were perpetually dark. It should have been off-putting, but compared to the glaring nothingness of the anti-void, he found it was surprisingly peaceful. Cross came here sometimes to get his mind off things. It had surprised him at first when he found that Dust and Horror came here as well, but the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. They carried their own burdens and probably appreciated having somewhere to be that didn’t have the oppressive crushing of walls surrounding them. Even Nightmare, who thrived on the negativity of their emotions, was smart enough to know that they couldn’t function effectively when pushed too far into madness.

To say this place was expansive was an understatement. You could get lost in the gardens if you weren’t careful. And Cross had an uneasy suspicion that the deeper portions of the woods changed with the mood of the castle. As long as you didn’t stray too far, there was plenty of space for everyone to ignore each other. There were things that could be found in seemingly random places within the gardens: a little table and chair set, benches, a childish tree swing. He couldn’t imagine Nightmare purposefully decorating, which added to the haunted feel of the place.

There was one spot that Cross avoided whenever possible, a small grove on the main path, outfitted with a lovely patio set and a reflection pool. It would have been a pleasant place to take meals if it weren’t for the odd full-length mirror that resided alongside the rest of the décor. It gave him chills to look in it; as if it was a gateway for his sins to reach through and drag him down into hell. He moved it once, but it simply returned to its rightful place shortly after.

Nope, fuck that.

He’d never mentioned it to anyone, but something must have shown on his face because it was the only place Killer ever insisted on meeting him when he came into the gardens.

He walked the path, breathing deeply the refreshing air of the foliage. His years working as a guard left his footsteps nearly silent, the only sound the rustle of wind through the trees, until a pair of hushed voices broke through the silence. The sound grew as he approached the meeting spot, compelling him to duck behind a series of bushes that gave him a vantage point over the outcropping.

…

What? He wasn’t spying. He was…gathering data.

He observed the scene in front of him and took note of a few things. Killer was there with Horror, the latter seemed to be in the middle of…changing his clothes? Yup, his normal ratty garb was on the ground. He’d changed into a clean, new-looking pair of shorts and was pulling a low collared sweater over his head. Once it was on, he looked down at himself, tugging at his eye socket, as if wildly unsure.

Killer took him by the arms and led him to stand in front of the mirror. He leaned over his shoulder and nuzzled him like a lazy cat.

“Look at you. You clean up nice,” Killer’s quiet, sultry voice sent a shiver through Cross.

“Hn, I don’t get it, the other ones were fine,” Horror seemed anxious, unable to maintain eye contact through the mirror.

“Yeah,” Killer dragged a finger under Horror’s chin, gently encouraging him to meet his gaze in the reflection, “…but you’re always so cold, aren’t you? You needed something to help you keep warm.”

Killer wrapped his arms around Horror, running his hands across his ribs and pulling him against his own chest. Horror slowly stopped tugging on his socket, his hands coming to rest on Killer’s.

“It’s…a little big,” Horror was soft spoken, but Cross could hear every word in the silence of the night. Killer’s smirk sharpened, a hand tugging the side of the sweater to reveal pale neck and clavicle. He pressed his mouth to the bone, slowly trailing kisses up the other monster’s spine. Horror’s breath hitched and he tilted his head, allowing access to the sensitive spot.

Cross gulped, his face heating at the sight. What the hell did he walk into? He could see as Killer began to suck against the bone, Horror’s eyes relaxing, half-lidded as he watched.

“Hhn…a lot of effort for a fuck…”

Killer stopped suddenly, peering upwards, “Is that what you think this is?”

“Heh, kinda obvious.”

Killer’s hands wandered across Horror’s clothed chest, his fingers dancing along the expanse of ribs, “You’re mistaken. I’m not dressing you up to fuck you. It’s that I couldn’t resist the chance to see you hunting at your best.”

Horror made an inquisitive noise that turned into a shaky sigh as one of Killer’s hands wandered down to explore the expanse of his pelvis. He was shameless as he groped through the silky looking shorts along his pubic symphysis. Cross’s breathing picked up as he watched Killer’s hand encourage Horror’s magic to take shape; the large bulge noticeably filling his hand. Horror didn’t have much magic to spare and could only form a tongue and dick, the two things his body apparently decided were most important for his survival.

“I know your joints lock up when you’re too cold. It slows you down. Frustrates you. I’ve noticed,” Killer slipped his hand inside the obtrusive shorts, his fingers wrapping around Horror’s length with practiced ease.

“Ahh, yeah…” Cross didn’t know if Horror was agreeing with Killer’s comment or encouraging more of the steady movement, but he felt a pang of sympathetic pleasure stir in his own pelvis at the sight of it.

“Nobody here tracks and hunts like you do. You’re the best of all of us. The Boss sees it in you. I see it in you. Watching you tie up your prey makes me hot,” a shudder wracked through Horror, his eyes slipping shut as Killer worked him over. Killer tenderly kissed along his neck as the held him and Cross could see the glowing outline through his shorts as he began to thrust against the other’s backside.

“Holy shit,” Cross muttered to himself as he adjusted his own shorts, his gaze locked on the pair in front of him. He’d only seen the two of them together once when they thought it’d be funny to screw around in Cross’s bed. He’d been so shockingly scandalized that he hadn’t been able to properly appreciate it, not like he could right now.

“You’re so fuckin’ good, and I wanna see it again, Horror. Show me how good you hunt,” Killer whispered against his neck.

Horror was smiling, thrusting into the still moving hand as he leaned their heads together, “Heh heh, what exactly you lookin’ for?”

Killer’s movements stilled.

“Someone doesn’t have as much faith in your skills as I do. I want you to prove them wrong.”

“Oh?”

Cross’s eyelights shrank to pinpoints with realization. ‘ _Oh no.’_

“Our boy Crossy seems to think he can outwit you. Thinks he’s faster and stronger than you,” Killer continued.

“Hn, what an asshole.” It didn’t matter if Horror believed the words. Killer had initiated a _game_ and Cross was sitting here with a glowing ‘Player 3’ sign above his head!

“I wanna see you fuck him up,” Killer squeezed Horror’s length once more before slipping his hand from his shorts and stepping back.

Horror took a moment to look in the mirror. He ran his hands along his new sweater, as if admiring it, before lifting his head and taking a slow deep breath. “He’s still here.”

Cross covered his mouth to stop the gasp that threatened to escape him. He hadn’t made any noise and they definitely hadn’t seen him on the path, he was sure of it. So how-

“I can still smell him. Citrus, that fancy soap he likes. Doesn’t match the garden,” Horror turned to look in the Cross’s direction and grinned.

Cross bolted, the sound of Killer’s delighted laugh echoing behind him.

He backtracked towards the castle, he could hide better or perhaps distract Horror with something more appealing, like food. He shoved his way through a thick patch of brush in an attempt to get back to the main path. Leave it to Killer to get his kicks off pulling Cross unknowingly into his little game. Was he so predictable that Killer knew he’d come? He had to stop making it so easy for him.

He stumbled over a gnarled tree root that managed to catch his boot. What the hell was all this? He’d only stepped a few feet off the path to watch the pair. Everything now was warped; overgrown and distorted, changing his path and trapping him. If he had any remaining doubt of the garden’s influence from magical intent, it was now gone. And it was clear that Horror intended to keep him here.

“Run, run…” Horror’s soft voice was everywhere around him, closing in on him. He had to get away!

A particularly nasty branch snapped against his face, splintering against his eye socket and sending a sharp wave of pain into his skull, temporarily blinding him. “Shit!” He pressed his hand against the socket and rubbed it, trying to reactivate his extinguished eyelight.

“You alright there, Cross?”

He startled, not expecting the voice so close to him. When he looked up, Horror stood before him, casually leaning against the tree in front of him. The glow of his red eye seemed so much more vibrant in the dark, his excitement reflecting in his magic. Cross reflexively jumped back, but this was not his favored terrain. There wasn’t proper room to fight and Horror held the advantage. He turned and ran, half-blinded but determined to put some distance between them.

‘ _I’m faster than him- with enough distance his influence will wear thin and I’ll get out!’_

As quickly as the thought crossed his mind, he felt a tight snap of something around his ankle, tripping him. He fell hard onto his chest, knocking the wind out of him. He scrambled around and saw the rope of a snare trap he’d run straight through. He yelped as the rope was pulled, a grinning Horror reeling him in like a freshly caught meal. Cross clawed at the ground but Horror was too strong to be outdone.

He was dragged through the dirt and leaves without remorse. Cross summoned a knife and bent himself, intending to cut the rope loose, but a large hand grabbed him by the wrist a moment too soon. He couldn’t overpower Horror’s brute strength despite his best effort and was forced to watch helplessly as his wrist was bent, forcing the blade to drop from his hand.

Cross’s arms were yanked behind his back, a bony knee digging into his spine, pinning him in place as he squirmed. His arms were tied with precise efficiency. A humorless laugh escaped him with the familiar movements, having watched as Horror restrained their own prisoners on past jobs. He dropped his head to the ground, knowing he was well and truly trapped.

It didn’t stop him from kicking the larger monster in the hip as his legs were grabbed. The only reward for his petulance was to have his face shoved into the dirt until he stopped struggled. Horror tied his legs together from the knees down before testing the restraints. Satisfied they would hold, he flipped Cross onto his back.

The adrenaline from the chase and instinctual panic at being restrained left Cross panting. Horror grabbed him by the face and inspected him in silence. Seemingly satisfied with whatever he saw, his grin slowly returned. It occurred to Cross that this was the last expression some monsters saw before they dusted.

“That was fantastic!” Cross flinched at the voice that sounded on his blind side. He could hear Killer’s footsteps but not see him approach with the way Horror still held onto him.

“Hn, to your liking then?” Horror’s smooth voice always had an effect on him, sending a shiver down his spine. Even more so now, when he knew what was coming…

“You were amazing, I knew you’d best him,” Killer finally came into Cross’s vision as he dropped down to his knees at his head. Killer leaned over the top of him to kiss Horror, who sighed sweetly at the touch. Cross’s breath hitched as Killer dipped his tongue into Horror’s mouth, a reward for a successful hunt. He thought he’d gotten an eyeful before, but in this position, he could see exactly how Killer nuzzled his way closer with every swipe of his tongue and the little shiver as Horror moved his hand off Cross’s face to hold onto Killer’s shirt. A piece of him wondered if they’d forgotten about him completely. He probably wouldn’t even be mad if they decided to just jerk each other off over the top of him. He felt his mouth water at the thought.

The fantasy was short lived as they separated, Killer turning his attention downward, “Crossy! Glad you could join us!”

Cross cringed as Killer roughly slapped his hands onto either side of his face. “Kinda did a number to your eye there.”

“Don’t worry, I checked him. Scratched a leyline but it’s temporary. He’ll be fine tomorrow,” Horror piped up as he grabbed the waistband of Cross’s shorts and yanked them down to his knees.

“Wonderful! Won’t have to explain that one to the Boss. Now, don’t feel too bad, Crossy. I told you Horror couldn’t be beat.”

“We never had this conversation-” he gasped as his legs were hiked over Horror’s shoulder. He blushed, glancing down to see that Horror had pulled his dick out and was lining himself up with Cross’s unformed magic. He was huge, significantly larger than both Killer and Cross. They’d fooled around before, but Horror had never penetrated him, and Cross’s magic swirled restlessly with anticipation, unsure how best to accommodate his size.

“Semantics,” Killer leaned in close to whisper against him, “Any last words?”

Did he have any? He could stop it all now, call off this ridiculous game, and stalk back to the castle for another shower and some sleep.

But he had to admit…Horror looked really nice in his new sweater. He looked good when he was confident and in control. He’d won the game and Cross wanted him to take his prize, even if the prize was himself.

Correction - especially if the prize was himself.

Cross chuckled, a mean smile spread across his face, “Enjoy your victory. You won’t be so lucky next time.”

Killer shared an excited glance with Horror before pulling Cross’s face towards him and kissing him. As he pulled back, Horror thrust into him, Cross’s magic dropping into place around the sudden intrusion.

“AHH! Ah-ohmygod--Oh fuck!” Cross threw his head back and screamed, his body trembling with the sudden shock. Although his magic formed around Horror’s size, it was stretched further than he’d ever experienced before. His body clenched around him, the fullness he felt shockingly good, leaving him trembling.

“H-Holy hell-you’re tight. Mmph-” Horror held back his moan as well as his movement, giving Cross a moment to adjust. He pressed his teeth against the rope tied around Cross’s legs until Killer redirected him with a touch, tilting his head in offering. Horror growled lowly, leaning forward to bite against the offered bone. There was nothing gentle about it, his hunger desperate and unforgiving.

Cross heard the scrape of teeth against bone and Killer’s pleased hiss that resulted, “Yeah, that’s good. Take what you want.”

He could feel the dick inside him twitch. It was hot and hard, rubbing against him in a way that left him whimpering. He tried to tilt his hips for more, _more_ , even if he didn’t know how he’d take it, he needed it!

It must have gotten Horror’s attention because he pulled back from Killer to shift Cross’s legs further up, bending him in half, before roughly grabbing his hip and thrusting back into him.

“Ah-!” Cross cried out desperately, his body clenching against Horror as he threw his head back. It shouldn’t have felt so good, being immobilized and at their mercy. But they had him. He was wholly and irrevocably theirs and something about it made him sob with the next thrust. Horror set a steady pace, not nearly as rough as he’d expect from the otherwise brutal monster. He didn’t seem to be in a rush when it came to savoring his victory…

“That’s right, show him how fucking good you are. Make him worship you-”

His mind was going blank, the only thing left he could focus on was the fullness overwhelming his trembling body. That, and the soft sadistic praise that Killer was whispering to Horror above him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! This has been fun to write, although my life schedule doesn't leave much time for it.
> 
> Let me know in a comment what else you'd like to see in Killer's book! :)


	3. Voyeurism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cross gets (almost) exactly what he asked for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am like, completely beside myself with all the positive comments and kudos people left with the last chapter! Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoy this update!

What he really needed was a new room. There were tons of them in the castle, vacant and ripe for claiming. He could quietly grab a few essentials and sneak off to another one, where perhaps trouble wouldn't befall him for a few weeks if he was lucky. But no. He must be some kind of masochist, to stay in this room where time and again his comrades shamelessly ignored the door (and lock) to help themselves into the one place in the universe that was meant to be carved out as his own personal sanctuary.

Killer must be trying to indent his shape into the mattress, with how often he crashes on Cross's bed instead of his own. Hell, he's pretty sure Killer has slept on that bed more than he has (does that make it his now? he certainly hoped not). Horror had recently made a habit of taking meals in his room, cross-legged on his bed or the floor, watching some silly show on his phone. He didn't even react when Cross would enter, as if it were the dining hall instead of Cross's own space. On the bright side, Horror never left crumbs and Cross had gotten rather comfortable lounging on the bed behind him and watching cartoons over his shoulder after a long day. Dust, however, always managed to catch him off guard; he didn't sleep right for weeks after that time he opened his eyes to see the terrifying monster standing over his bed, silent and watching him. Yeah, he still wasn't sure what set that off, but Dust seemed to feel fairly guilty about it and left him little hidden chocolates around the room the rest of the week.

Despite it all, he remained, addicted to the chaos he attracted. Except this time. He opened his door, and immediately noticed that his desk chair had been moved next to the bed. It took only a moment for him to register the seemingly innocent change before his mind spiraled into overdrive. He gasped, his face flushed heavily, and quickly slammed the door shut. Welp, it had been fun, but it was time to move. Maybe the basement offered something--

He spun around to retreat but immediately found himself pressed back against the door, a pair of arms on either side of his skull trapping him. Killer's dripping eyes and sharp grin leaned in close, "Heya, Crossy. Didja miss me?"

Fuck! He'd seriously hoped that in the three weeks Killer was gone that he'd forgotten about their little conversation.

_Killer nuzzled him like the lazy cat he was. As if he could make himself adorable enough that all his crimes would be forgiven. Cross held strong, refusing to make eye contact._

_"Don't be mad, baby. The Boss has seen all of us in compromised circumstances--"_

_"Injuries from battle are not the same as sex injuries!" Cross hissed, still not meeting his gaze. Nightmare would never take him seriously now, not after catching him in the aftermath of their exploits in the garden, with his arms and legs thoroughly bruised from being restrained. It hadn't hurt, bone was tough, but the marks were fairly extensive. Cross planned on bribing Dust to heal the superficial injuries. He absolutely did not plan on Nightmare finding him, his smile sharp and eyes knowing. There was no excuse he could have made to cover himself; even if realistically he knew Nightmare was aware that they fooled around, it was altogether another thing to be forced to sit while the Boss healed him, every bruise painting a picture of his recent activities._

_"Tell you what, I'll make it up to you." The sound of Killer opening his inventory had Cross begrudgingly drawing his eyes to the side to see what was offered. Killer slid a familiar small book into Cross's hands before resuming his previous position draped across him, his head tucked against the other's neck. Cross gently fiddled with the book; he didn't expect Killer to keep it. He figured it was a momentary interest that would inevitably be used as kindling._

_"Why don't you pick out something you like? Anything at all. You run the show next time."_

_He hadn't agreed to anything. Killer simply accepted his silence as the end of the conversation and fell asleep in his bed. But the next day Cross handed the book back to him, face flushed and unable to speak, pointing to an unassuming page near the front. It wasn't even a proper page like the others, more of a reference paragraph. Nonetheless, Killer lit up like a set of Gyftmas lights, as if Cross had given him something wonderful._

_And just as quickly, he was gone._

Three weeks was plenty of time for Cross to rethink all of his life choices, but especially the ones where he openly admitted certain...unsavory interests of his to his teammates.

"Now see, you're already making a face. If you're not careful you're gonna hurt my feelings."

"Yeah, right, I'm sure," Cross turned his head away, grumbling.

Killer leaned in and Cross held his breath as he gently pressed their foreheads together to whisper to him, "Hey Crossy, aren't you gonna...give me a kiss?"

Damn him! His stupid face, his frustratingly attractive smile, his warm body, his everything!

Cross smushed their mouths together roughly, and he felt the vibrations of Killer's chuckle run through him. He pressed further into him, conveying everything he couldn't find the words for.

Yes, I missed you. Yes, I'm glad you're back safe--

A throat was cleared next to the pair, causing Cross to pull back suddenly, his head hitting the door with a sharp thud. Horror raised a brow at them, "Hn, kinda thought this would be the other way around, by what your message said, Killer."

"Don't you worry, the plan didn't change! I'm just getting him warmed up."

"I'm right here, you know!" Cross hissed.

"Good. Exactly where I want you," Killer said. "Now, both of you come on in," he opened the door around Cross, who stumbled backwards before catching himself. Once inside, Killer locked the door behind them. Somehow, the lock felt more able to keep people in the room than out. Cross gulped in nervous anticipation.

Horror threw himself onto the narrow bed, kicking his sneakers off as he sat. He grabbed the pair of pillows and propped them up against the wall so he could lounge comfortably.

Killer took Cross by the shoulders, encouraging him to sit in the chair beside the bed. He was as tense as a board, gripping the arms of the chair and glaring at the floor like it had insulted his brother. It was no deterrent for Killer, who smoothly slid onto his knees between Cross's legs, his bony hands sliding their way up his femurs.

"Look at me, Crossy," his voice was a sweet whisper that Cross couldn't resist. "I'm glad you suggested this. I thought about it a lot while I was gone, and I was wondering if you'd like to make things a little more interesting?"

Cross's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but it was proving more difficult to focus the longer Killer's fingertips wandered up the insides of his thighs. "Interesting how?"

"Let's make a little bet. If you touch yourself or one of us, I win. And if you resist until we're done, you win. Loser gets on their knees for Dust next time you see him. What do you say?"

The impish skeleton obviously had something up his sleeve; the bet seemed too easy for Cross. Little circles traced increasingly closer towards his pelvis and he knew the longer he deliberated the more Killer would sit here and work him up. Horror chuckled quietly from his comfortable spot, enjoying the direction things were going at no expense to himself.

Cross smiled down at Killer, grabbing his hands and pulling them off his legs, "You better move now otherwise your knees are gonna be real sore later."

If Killer had eyelights, they would be lit up with the excitement reflecting on his face. He slid up to the bed and kicked his shoes off as Cross made himself more comfortable in his chair.

Killer crawled onto Horror's lap, their hands finding each other easily. Cross held his breath as they pulled themselves together. Perhaps Horror had missed him just as badly? It wasn't always easy to tell with the quiet monster, but with the way he held onto Killer's jacket with no visible intention of letting him go, Cross suspected he had. Horror tilted his head up, a silent request for a kiss. 

Killer leaned down slowly, teasing him with a brush of their lips. He smirked, holding Horror's half lidded gaze, "Watch closely, Crossy," he whispered, and Cross could see their conjured tongues as they finally came together.

Cross reflexively tilted his own chin up, as if he could sympathetically feel the familiar mouth pressed against his own. He gulped, his mouth watering as he watched the pair kiss like it was their last. He thought perhaps it was for the show, but the few times he’d seen them together had been the same. Killer had the sides of Horror's face between his hands as he plunged his tongue shamelessly into the other's mouth. Horror didn't fight him, rather inviting the wet hot magic like a monster starved of it.

Fuck, it was already a lot. Normally when he kissed, he was distracted by the feel of it, where to put his hands, and thoughts of what was coming next. As a bystander, he noticed little things: the way Horror sucked against the intruding tongue to try and pull it deeper, the soft gasping noise every time they pulled apart, only to be immediately drawn back in. But what he especially noticed now was the way Killer's eyes were left half lidded. Was he...watching? Like Horror, Cross had always shut his eyes, never noticing the dark stare as he was thoroughly worked over. Did Killer like to see what he did to them? How he left them gasping and drooling from the stimulation?

His grip on the arms of the chair tightened.

The pair broke apart, taking a moment to breathe against each other. Killer tucked his face against Horror's neck and breathed in his scent deeply, a satisfied sigh escaping him. "Yeah, that's good. Now tell me what to do to him next, Crossy."

He blinked, startled, "Huh-wha?"

Killer chuckled from where he sat, his breath against Horror's neck sending a visible shiver down him, "You didn't think I'd make you just sit and watch us, did you? You're running the show here. So... tell us what you want to see..."

"I-I...um-"

"Do you want to see me tease him? He's beautiful when he's begging..." Killer whispered against the side of Horror's head, dragging his teeth across the bone as he spoke. Horror leaned into it, his fingers clawing restlessly against Killer's jacket.

"Uh, well..."

"Or maybe you wanna see me lick his bones a bit, before I swallow him up," Killer relaxed his jaw, letting his tongue wag teasingly Horror's way. When the other leaned forward to catch the teasing appendage in his teeth, Killer pulled back and smirked.

"I want Horror to shove you into the mattress!"

Killer's head snapped towards Cross, giving Horror the moment he needed to grab the surprised monster by the arms and roughly shove his back against the bed. Horror easily switched their positions, legs straddling Killer's hips, his grip strong and unrelenting, not giving the other skeleton any room to move.

Horror let out a deep chuckle, his grin delighted and hungry, "I like the way you think, Cross. I'll devour him, if you want." He opened his mouth to take in the pale bone of Killer's neck between his teeth, posed to bite at Cross's command.

His mind was racing. He hadn't been prepared to give orders when he'd shyly requested to watch the pair engage in...activities. Of course Killer tried to up the ante. But now... Cross held all the cards.

Where to start?

"Rip his clothes off," he whispered.

Killer's jacket was wrestled off of him before Horror lost all pretense and simply tore the flimsy fabric of his shirt apart. His clawed hands made similarly easy work of his shorts before he tossed the tattered remains, leaving him barebones.

Horror held him down, his gaze slowly trailing up and down the fully exposed body. Cross could hear the pleased rumble he emitted at the sight of his feast. If Killer had any qualms about being the only one undressed, he didn't show it. His grin was both challenging and passive. He knew Cross was getting off on this, and he didn't mind the rough handling if Cross dug his own grave while it happened.

He'd already formed a dick; he'd felt it uncomfortably in his shorts watching their delicious make out session. He could win the bet easily, tell Horror to flip Killer onto his front and ruthlessly fuck into him until he was screaming and coming from it. But then it would be over. He'd have the satisfaction of winning the bet, but... he'd lose the chance to indulge himself in this unique position.

He wasn’t ready to give that up yet.

“Take your time, Horror, enjoy him. He’s not going anywhere anytime soon.”

With permission granted, Horror bit into the bone of Killer’s neck, a quiet hiss audible from the monster underneath. He looked so small, held down as Horror licked down to his clavicle, biting into the thin bone. He knew from experience that Killer had a bit of a masochistic streak, and the teasing look on his face devolved into genuine enjoyment as Horror lost more control over himself with every pass of a rib.

He could hear the grind of teeth on bone and Horror panting like a dog with a particularly tasty treat. Killer tried to reach for him, but Horror held him still, leaving his hands to cling to the bedsheets. He lapped generously at the last set of ribs before moving further down. He let go of Killer’s arms in favor of taking him by his hips and pulling him in close. He brushed his fingers across the thick bone almost tenderly before biting into it with the ferocity of a savage animal.

“Ah-!” Killer’s yell made Cross jump in his seat. He could see the imprints of Horror’s teeth from the bite as he licked some of the sting away. That would bruise ugly and Killer would definitely be feeling it for a while.

Maybe he could get Nightmare to heal it.

The thought brought a satisfied smile to his face.

Killer must have sensed his snarkiness because he turned to look Cross’s way. Horror had taken each of his femurs in hand and was indulging himself upon them like they were candy.

“Enjoying yourself?” His voice shook a little, and Cross decided that he really _really_ needed to hear his voice like that more often.

“Heh, not as much as you are.”

“That’s not how it looks from here,” Killer had a bird’s eye view of the glow in his shorts. He couldn’t deny it, he’d been the one to request it after all. “What equipment should I make for you, sweetheart?”

Cross opened his mouth to answer but was cut short when Killer gasped, clenching his eyes shut and writhing as Horror licked aggressively against the tender cartilage of his symphysis. Cross shuddered, squirming in his seat as Killer took a moment to adjust to the pleasurable onslaught.

“Ohh-haah, yeah, y-you want to see him choke on me?” Horror made a pleased little sound at the suggestion, biting into him and drawing forth another groan.

“I-uh…”

“No, that’s not it," he was rambling, more to himself at this point. "You wanna see him fuck me up, don’t you? You know the feeling of that fat cock well and now you wanna see him impale me.” Cross flushed, guilty as charged.

“Yeah, that's so good, babe. And when he’s done with me, you come lay down in my arms and he’ll take you too-”

“I want you to make breasts!” Cross nearly yelled it in his rush to get the words out. Everyone paused, the room suddenly silent, and Cross was suddenly overcome with the urge to bury himself.

Horror smirked, crawling back up Killer's body to lean over his face, "That sounds nice. You haven't let me play with them before."

Killer snapped out of his surprise, a light flush across his face. Holy shit, he looked...embarrassed? Shy? It must be his birthday, because this was a precious gift that he would treasure forever.

"Heh, alright, if that's what you wanna see," he moved his hands over his ribs, coaxing his magic to take shape. Cross watched, enraptured by the way Killer's hands gently worked the space above his chest. He stopped breathing as the ecto slowly took shape, filling his hands with something more solid and full.

Horror nudged Killer's hands aside, grabbing the newly formed flesh for himself and gently cupping them. They were smaller than Horror's hands, but looked soft and inviting. Cross whimpered, his own hands clenching the arms of the chair in time with Horror's rhythmic squeezing.

Killer sighed as the monster above him began to rub circles across his nipples, encouraging them to stiffen under his loving treatment. "Well, what do you think, Crossy?"

"They're so wonderful," the words came easily.

Horror pinched the nubs between his fingers, pulling them upwards until Killer arched his back and groaned. Cross groaned with him before immediately covering his mouth. He refused to pull his eyes off the scene in front of him.

Horror chuckled, glancing aside towards him, “You know, there’s room for both of us to enjoy him. I’ll take this side,” he accentuated with a sharp nip to one, causing Killer to jump and grab onto him, “…and you can take that side.”

Cross wanted it so badly it hurt. He wanted to grab onto those beautiful soft mounds and bury his face in between them. Why hadn’t Killer made them before when he looked so good with them? It was a crime, for sure. He leaned forward, reaching his hand out; the pair on the bed pausing to let him make his move. Cross traced his fingertips around the shape of his breast, close enough to feel the tingling of his magic but tragically not touching it. If Killer so much as breathed deeply, it would be over.

Cross sighed painfully as he withdrew, “I saw something else…in your book. Fleshy monsters piercing each other and leaving in jewelry. I kinda thought you’d enjoy that but I wasn’t sure if you’d, uh…make the goods for it.”

Killer let out a breathless little laugh, looking positively delighted, “You like that? I’ll let you do that to me. Deck me out like a pretty little Lustverse monster.”

Cross smiled, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Horror drew Killer’s attention back to him, pulling him into a deep kiss. Ah, fuck. Most of the attention might have been on Killer, but what he wouldn’t give to have Horror’s mouth on him right now too. He was the type of monster that held himself back, like he was worried his hunger would override his better judgement. But when he was coaxed enough, given permission to let go a bit…

Killer could only hold on as Horror plunged his tongue into his mouth, losing himself to the overwhelming taste of the other monster’s magic. He squeezed the breast in his hand roughly, and Killer’s muffled moan left Cross shivering. Horror was rubbing himself against Killer’s leg and from the looks of it, didn’t plan on stopping at this point.

They broke apart with a gasp and Horror wasted no time in taking the pointed breast into his mouth. He rolled the other in his hand as he savored the rare treat Killer had given him. Cross covered his own mouth in an attempt to remain silent, but the sounds Horror made as he licked up the offered flesh was becoming more than he could take.

Killer covered his face with his arm, which surprised Cross. Every other movement had been so deliberately open and exposing, all part of the show. Was his conjured flesh that sensitive? He must have really been losing himself with what Horror was doing...

It was then that he noticed how Killer was shivering. It was...quite a bit. Perhaps more than he should be...

"Killer, you alright?" 

The question caught Horror's attention. He stopped, looking up, but Killer didn't answer, shivering and seemingly trying to catch his breath. Horror crawled up him, grabbing the arm over his face and pinning it above him.

"Killer-" Horror started.

"Relax-it's nothing." Killer smiled, his eyes half lidded. Horror growled lowly in response, tightening his grip on his wrist until Killer relented. "Really, it's just- I could feel your breath... on my soul."

Horror's good eye widened, glancing down at the circular object as if he'd see an injury. They'd screwed around so much that avoiding it was practically second nature. But since Killer had given them such lovely assets to play with, his soul hovered closer than he was accustomed. 

Horror knocked his forehead against Killers, "Sorry..." he mumbled.

"I told you, it's fine. Just a lot of heavy intent you were panting onto it, big guy. Better be careful, I might think you like me," Killer winked.

He chuckled darkly before using his grip on Killer to wrestle him onto his front. Cross stiffened as the change in position forced Killer to hang onto the edge of the bed to stay on, directly in front of him. His new breasts squished attractively against his arms and Cross flushed as he stared wantonly at them. All he had to do was reach out, he could pull Killer's head into his lap, undo the ties of his pants, and maybe Killer would give him some attention.

Horror stripped himself of his clothes, revealing his large scarred bones and heavy cock. What Cross wouldn't give to join him, it was too hot in here, and he was stiflingly overdressed. But Horror's bones were always pleasantly cool to the touch...

"Cross."

He startled at his name, it was becoming incredibly difficult to focus, his body restless and in overdrive with need. Horror ran his bony fingers along Killer's sacrum and femurs, a prized catch that was his to enjoy. "You want me to take him like this? Or play with him some more?"

Oh, Cross really must hate himself. He was gonna dust at this rate.

"Finger him, hard, please-" he begged.

He watched Horror's hand slip down, his view partially obstructed, but it didn't matter. He could tell by Killer's sudden gasp, the way he gripped the mattress, exactly what was happening. 

"Nngh-!"

"Hard, huh?" Horror gripped the back of Killer's spine to keep him in place. Cross knew how strong he was, remembered how easy it was to be handled by him. He was transfixed on the way Horror's hand started to move, the glide a little easier, and the way he delved deeper with every thrust.

"Wish you had a headboard-"

"Ah...ah, fuck...harder-"

"-I'd break him over it."

Cross was sweating. He pressed his knees together, but it only made the tightness worse. Oh, how badly his dick throbbed and what he wouldn't give to wrap his hand around it!

"Mmph...haah...Horror-"

"Don't beg me! Beg him! He's doing this to you!" Horror's grin turned wild as he unrelentingly shoved his hand in and out. Killer's body tightened, clinging to the edge of the mattress, increasingly closer to Cross himself. He could hear the wet noises of Horror curling his thick fingers, rubbing so deep that maybe Killer would feel that in his soul too--

"Fuck, Crossy! AH-more! More-don't make him stop, Crossy-!"

The way Killer cried his name turned out to be his breaking point. He clenched his eyes shut, the first he'd looked away since the show started. He shuddered violently as he came, sobbing in unsatisfying release as his hands clenched the chair painfully. His bones were rattling, still burning hot from denying himself the touch of another.

When he chanced a glance upward, Horror and Killer had stopped, matching looks of shock on their faces. Perhaps in another scenario, Cross would have been of the right mind to be embarrassed. But it was all he could do to catch his breath and try to push aside how terribly alone he was starting to feel sitting there in his own shameful cooling cum.

"I-I didn't...touch," Cross panted. 

A sticky wet hand grabbed him by the front of the shirt and pulled him onto the small free space of the bed. He was drawn into a deep, blissful kiss, and he moaned desperately with how good it felt.

A pair of hands circled around his ribs from behind, a chin coming to rest on his shoulder. "You win, baby. You did so good. Let us take care of you now," Killer whispered against him.

The bed was barely big enough to accommodate two people, let alone three. They were a tangled mess of limbs and strewn clothes, grabbing, kissing, touching whomever was closest.

And as Cross lay warm and contentedly basking in the afterglow, pleasantly squished between his two bedmates, he decided that he really didn't need another room after all.

Just a bigger bed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Killer hummed to himself, twirling a knife absently between his fingers as he approached Nightmare's office. It was late, but he had yet to report to the Boss since he'd returned. It wasn't an issue. Nightmare knew he was back; there were no secrets in the castle after all. As long as he reported anything urgent immediately, he was free to recuperate a bit before stopping by. Perk of being number two, bitches.

He swung the door open without knocking, "Yo, Boss! Didja enjoy the quiet while I was gone?"

Nightmare sat at his desk and raised a brow, unsurprised at the intrusion, "Killer. Welcome back. I trust all went as planned?"

A moment of silence passed before he answered, Killer's attention drawn to the person standing beside Nightmare, "Yeah Boss, everything without a hitch. Heya Dust-Bunny, long time no see."

Dust tilted his head, grinning darkly, "Didn’t I tell you I'd kill you if you ever called me that again?"

Killer shrugged innocently, "Whoops. Must have slipped. But, you know, I'm glad you're here actually."

"Oh?" 

“Hehe, yeah, I’ve got something for you. Hang on tight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this has been really therapeutic for me. Life hasn't always been kind and I get very little time to work on it, so thank you for being patient with updates (and typos, and formatting issues, oh my gosh)


	4. Roleplay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dust struggles...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got a bit off track. I almost scrapped it, but then I figured screw it, I'll resume with your normal scheduled smutty shenanigans with the next one!

It still surprised him how much a monster could bleed when he didn't kill them too quickly.

Well, maybe 'surprised' wasn't the correct term. It enamored him, entranced him, made him feel like his mind was floating away while his body ran on autopilot. It made him want to run his fingers through the blood and let it drip into the cracks between them. So he did.

It felt so good. It was still warm with magic, clinging to the lifeforce of the monster before him. He couldn't help himself; he brought his face forward and lapped up the blood with his conjured tongue. He shivered harshly at the first taste; his LV viscerally satisfied with each consecutive lick. He traced his tongue along the cuts he had placed, the monster before him tensing as he agitated the wounds.

Killer sighed, resting his forehead against the bloodied back, uncaring if his face was dirtied in the process. If he thought he could get away with it, he'd press himself right up against that deliciously warm backside and savor the blood as he rutted against their sacrum.

Fuck, he was hard.

This was a new experience for him. He'd never let himself go quite like this before. Sure, he'd indulged in his bloodlust, savored the thrill as he dragged his knife across flesh or bone, breathed in the dust and let himself bask in the shrill ringing of madness that pounded in his skull as his LV increased. But this was different.

Knifeplay.

His breath stopped short and his soul thrummed with excitement at the word on the page of his book. It was like a kink made just for him. He had no idea that monsters did this for sexual pleasure. He'd never even considered it. He was anxious and curious to test it out, like a child about to try a new flavored candy bar.

It was a good thing that somebody else was in need of the same thing.

Killer dragged his knife across the back of a rib slowly, deep enough it would scar with the rest. He was enraptured as he watched it drip down into the dead space of the other skeleton's innards, making a mess of his pelvis and the pants he still wore. What he wouldn't give to pull those shorts down and cut into that fresh looking hipbone. Maybe he could coax their magic into mixing with the blood as it formed, it was all basically the same for them after all, and he could fuck them like that. He could cum inside them, and when their magic dispelled he'd rub the remnants into the gouges left behind and let them absorb a piece of him to carry around as a reminder.

God damn this was awesome.

He made a mental note to add his own notations to the tragically empty margins of this page in his book later on. Apparently, this hadn't been of any interest to the previous owner. But seeing as how it belonged to Killer now, it was his duty to explore the ins and outs of the information provided and record advise for anyone who dared to throw themselves into the tempting pages in the future.

Alas, tonight was not the night to fully engage in all that this amazing activity had to offer. His partner was shivering, soft little panting noises that weren't completely from pain emitting with nearly every unnecessary breath. Their needs were different from his own, and with his LV settling it was time to turn the focus onto them.

With one last indulgent lick across the bone, he backed off, giving them room to breathe. He could also admire his handiwork. It wasn't the first time he'd carved into them, old scars mixing with new, painting a picture with blood and dust that would stick with them forever. They looked beautiful.

"How're you doing?" Killer questioned.

Dust glanced around from where he sat backwards in his chair, his head still buried in the scarf that he'd taken off to hold in his arms during their session. He made an incoherent noise in response, closing his eyes. Killer tsked and pinched his spinous process roughly, not letting up until Dust made an aggravated sound, weakly attempting to shake the annoying monster's hand off.

"Fuck off, it's finally quiet. Don't need you making noise to fill it."

Killer dragged his hand down the trails of blood and Dust groaned, his visible eyelight unfocused and hazy. There was something satisfying about bringing him to this point, making him pliable and helpless. Dust was by far one of the more dangerous monsters that Nightmare picked up, but he came with more than his fair share of psychosis. His sins followed him, whispering in his ear and pushing him towards the edge of madness. It made him manic and ruthless, a valuable asset. And when it became too much, he'd come crawling to Killer for punishment. It wasn't Killer's job to judge whether he deserved it. The bottom line was that he also enjoyed it. It satisfied both their needs. Leveled the playing field and brought them to a point where they could survive a little longer.

A lovely little symbiotic relationship.

Killer scooted himself forward from where he sat in his own chair behind Dust, wrapping his arms around the still dripping ribs and pressing himself against the other's backside.

"Hey, wanna fuck?" he whispered against the side of his skull. When he got no response, he peered around, noticing that Dust's eyelights had extinguished.

"Damn, I should have asked him before we started," Killer sighed, tragically put out. He hugged the limp body tightly, grinding himself up against him once for good measure.

"Aww Dust-Bunny, I would have made it real nice for you. Ah well, there's always next time. Let's go get you cleaned up."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He was floating, his head swimming but blissfully empty. Fresh, sharp pain radiated from his backside, but it was good. It was like a weight had been lifted. The pain kept him present, focused on what was in front of him. Dust opened his eyes, momentarily confused before his muddled mind registered where he was.

Underwater? Killer must have brought him to the baths to soak his wounds. Asshole either tossed him in or let him slip right under; not that he could drown, but he'd be shaking water out of his skull for a few hours. But at least the water was hot, the way he liked it, and it was admittedly more pleasant than waking up on the tiled floor of a shower stall.

He sat up, immediately coughing up a gush of fluid as his body fought between air and water. He laid his head against the outside of the tub, letting the water drain from his sockets. His scarf was here, kept dry on the side for when he awoke. Good. A faint scribbling noise caught his attention and he glanced over to see Killer sitting quietly on the floor, writing something in what appeared to be a journal. Or a kill list.

_'Huh, he stuck around.'_

"What's that?" His voice was a little garbled, but Killer paused to look at him. He grinned, holding the small book towards him. Dust shook the water off his hand before taking it and glancing through the pages.

"What...the absolute fuck?"

"It's a sex book!"

"I see that. Why do you have it?"

"I'm exploring my horizons. Pushing the boundaries of creativity. Weaving through the nest of--"

"What is Daddy Kink?"

"Oh! You wanna be my Daddy? I've never had one before and I don't think Cross is up for the responsibility--" Dust shoved his hand against Killer's face, pushing him away. Killer laughed in gleeful delight, undeterred.

"Since you asked, there's a whole chapter on fucking people who are asleep or incapacitated that I'd like to get you in on," Killer continued on but Dust's attention wavered. He had paused his idle flipping of pages to read one.

"--you see, I was going to take a little shopping trip...Oh, something caught your attention?" Killer inquired, his smirk slowly sharpening when he noticed Dust was focused on a particular page.

"...Hm..."

When Killer leaned in to try and sneak a peek, Dust slammed the book shut and casually tossed it aside, leaving the other to scramble to retrieve it. Dust reclined back, letting the remaining heat from the water soak into him while he carefully considered what he'd just read.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Error was here.

It meant one of two things would happen: either he would finally tell Nightmare where to shove it and things would get real ugly real fast, or he would continue with their tentative truce, bring valuable information, and they could spend some time like a band of reunited misfits.

When Killer exited the throne room with Error at his side, a relaxed grin on his face, everyone knew they were in for a good time.

Dust had been observing these gatherings for some time now. They were largely an excuse to eat and gamble too much while the Boss worked on how to best utilize the information Error brought. The hard work would start soon; may as well unwind a bit in case you dusted next week.

Error and Killer together were troublesome in a highly entertaining way. Well, troublesome for Cross, who had lost another hand of cards and was on the fast track to losing clothing.

**_'They enjoy messing with him because he's weak. You should join them. Put him in his place.'_**

Dust raised a brow at Not-Papyrus but made no motion to move from his spot. The table erupted into raucous laughter as another hand was played, Cross's flustered stutterings at his loss only serving to fuel the fire.

_**'** You're underestimating him. He's quick on his feet and a sharp tactician. He wouldn't hesitate to put us down if he had to.'_

_**'Ha! Nothing you'd understand, right? Oh, wait...'**_

His neck itched. He ignored it.

Horror emerged from the kitchen, a steaming pot of stew in his hands. He placed it in the middle of the table, forcing the end of the card game. He pulled a series of bowls from his inventory, passing them around. He nodded once at Error, pushing a bowl towards him to avoid any accidental contact.

**_'Did you see that!? The fucking traitor! How long are you going to humor their bargain before you put an end to it?'_**

' _It's harmless.'_

_**'And how long until he's willing to make a deal with someone else? He needs to be taught a lesson!'**_

_**'** No.'_

_' **And you're even worse! You're so pathetic and desperate for him that you'll let him fuck you like a doll--"**_

"Dust."

He snapped to attention to look at Horror, who was holding a bowl of stew towards him. He reached up to take it and cursed the slight shake in his hands. Horror subtly placed his own hand over Dust's trembling one to steady him. Dust's breath caught in his throat at the innocuous gesture, but Horror simply smiled at him before pulling away to take his own seat.

**_'Just fucking KILL YOURSELF!'_**

Dust took a deep breath and pushed his back against the wood of the chair he sat in. It dug into his still-fresh wounds, hot and painful even after a few days of healing. It was enough to bring him back to the banter of the table; the easy camaraderie over good food. He ate slowly, the meal warm and wonderful, and tried to ignore the blood that seemed to coat everyone's clothes.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He wanted to be alone. At least, that's what he'd told himself that day.

The gardens were susceptible to their emotions and intent, and even if you could lie to yourself, it knew better. It had been such a long week; a mission gone poorly, Not-Papyrus's overly enthusiastic reminders of his blunders, and he sought the tranquility that the open air provided. He walked aimlessly, stuck inside his own head without refuge.

Until he stumbled upon him.

Horror sat with his knees curled up to his chest, his chin on his knees, and an anxious hand tugging his empty socket. He appeared so small that Dust almost hadn't noticed him. Especially not compared to what was in front of him. It could only be described as a tear in dimensions; similar to what Cross or Nightmare did, but decidedly not. He recognized the glitchy mark of Error's work anywhere.

And on the other side of the tear was...

Horror's eyes widened when he looked up at Dust. He scrambled to his knees, as if to plead for mercy, but before he could get the words out, Dust sat beside him and watched the strange peaceful-looking dimension. Little by little, Horror relaxed, until they were pressed together against the cold, enjoying company that neither outwardly asked for.

Three times Dust had joined Horror in his secret indulgence. Tonight, he had a little something different planned.

"Alright, one limited subscription to the most boring dimensional channel you could ask for. You know, I could at least put on something interesting for you," Error's low voice rang out from up ahead.

"No, this one is fine. Here's your food," Horror pulled a bundle of wrapped chocolates from his inventory. The red and black labeling 'Spiced Dark Chocolate' that was native to one of the Fells bringing an excited grin to the dark monster's face.

"Ha! Perfect. Tastes like victory. On that note, enjoy watching wheat grow, weirdo," Dust watched as Error left, mumbling something offensive regarding the Temmie's sales practices. Horror took a seat against a tree, his normal spot that he'd spend the next few hours.

Dust stood back, watching the scene unfold. The surface sun still intrigued him when he saw it, a dim glow of reds and oranges across the sky. A small barn came into view, the monster working nearby wiped a sheen of sweat from his brow before stretching his back after what was likely a long day. Horror made a quiet noise at the sight of the farmer, his attention rapt with him on screen.

It had been over a year since Horror had gotten stuck in that universe. Dust remembered how they'd searched the Multiverse for their missing comrade, the endless possibilities of where Ink had dropped him bringing their chances of locating him to nearly nothing. Nightmare kept them focused; they would use Horror's familiar negativity to reign in a location.

Except they never detected any. Not for three whole months. Until suddenly-

"Come sit."

Dust took the few steps forward and settled beside Horror, their shoulders pressed together in comfortable familiarity. It was strange, seeing this obscure place and its mellow inhabitants and seeing the reaction they had on a monster who had been through Hell and back. They sat in silence as the farmer and his brother prepared dinner, making small talk like a normal family before sitting by the fireplace and quietly reading. It was so mundane. It didn't make for an interesting show at all.

Dust glanced at Horror. His eyes were softened, his body relaxed, and a small smile rested easily on his face. He never looked like this except during these sessions. Dust's face flushed at the sight of it.

It wasn't until the farmer and his brother turned into bed that Horror spoke, "The break in his arm healed nicely."

"Hm," Dust affirmed.

"And they didn't have a shortage at market this season."

"Hm."

A heavy silence fell between them until Horror made to stand, signaling the end of their time. Dust grabbed his humerus, keeping him still.

"I...have something I'd like to try... with you," Dust mumbled. Horror blinked in curious confusion and settled back down. 

"Close your eyes for a moment, please," he requested. He was surprised with how easily Horror did as he asked, but he supposed the crafty monster didn't need his sight to be dangerous.

_"This is completely ridiculous. Stop feeding into him!"_ Not-Papyrus's voice rang loudly in his mind as he opened his inventory, pulling out a worn straw hat and donning it.

Dust steadied himself with a deep breath, "Alright. I'm ready."

Horror opened his eyes and choked back a gasp, "Wha-What are you doing?"

Dust tilted the hat to cover his distinctly colored eyelight, the other watching Horror's reaction closely, "You want him, don't you? Like this, you can have him. Any way you'd like. A little harmless...roleplay."

Horror tugged at his socket. Dust could see the conflict twisting in him as he glanced once again at the screen displaying the sleeping monster he'd become so enamored with. He leaned forward to whisper against the side of Horror's skull, "Come now, sweet pea. Let's have a little fun." It wasn't too difficult to change the inflection of his voice to something closer to that of the farmer.

Horror gulped, his voice quiet, "That's...dirty play."

Dust shifted onto his knees, a hand lightly coming to tug against Horror's sweater as he slowly crowded into his space, "Did he ever take you into his bed? Keep you warm under those heavy sheets?" Horror seemed frozen in indecision, his desires fighting against his better judgement, so Dust upped the ante, placing a few slow kisses down his neck before continuing, "...or maybe you took him into the barn and got him real messed up in the hay."

He brushed his hands under Horror's jacket, sliding it off his shoulders, "Did you take him under the stars? Savor him like a treat after a long day?"

Horror grabbed Dust by the arms, halting his movements, "We never..."

"Then now's your chance. Don't ya' want me, Horror?" The larger monster made a grumbling noise and Dust knew he'd won. "Yeah, sweet thing, that's right. You bring them cold bones right up close and take what you'd like..."

"...What I'd like?"

Dust made a soft noise in agreement as Horror switched their positions, guiding Dust to lean back against the tree as he straddled him.

**_"Ugh, you're disgusting. No better than a toy for him to play with and throw away when he's done with you."_**

Horror leaned in, the side of his face brushing against the large straw hat. He closed his eyes, as if the feeling of it against his bone was bringing back an old memory. He pushed in closer, their lips nearly touching, and hesitated.

"I only...got to kiss you once..."

Something in Dust's chest tightened at the admission. After Nightmare finally retrieved him, covered in blood and looking like a drowned dog, he'd kept silent about what exactly had occurred during his time gone. Of course, they'd speculated among themselves, but nothing had ever been confirmed. Not until Dust stumbled into Horror's secret late-night viewings.

A gentle claw brushed against his cheek, and he nearly jumped at the tender touch. Horror closed the small gap left between them, and Dust couldn't help the quiet sigh that escaped him. He'd never been kissed so gently, with such soft intent. It was...not what he had been expecting.

**_"Remember, dear brother, he's not kissing YOU like that."_**

Right. He was a character. One he only knew from a few short hours of viewing time. But Horror seemed to be falling into things well enough. That was what mattered.

Horror pulled back, just enough that his breath ghosted against Dust's. His eyes remained closed, reliving the private moment in his mind. Dust waited patiently until Horror moved to press his face against the side of his neck.

"You...could have left me...or killed me. But your soul is too good for that," Horror placed his palm against Dust's chest, rubbing small soothing circles.

"K-Kiss me again. The way we didn't get to before," Dust whispered. Horror glanced his glowing eye upwards at him, and Dust thought he had perhaps broken the scene. But instead, a tenseness in Horror's shoulders seemed to unwind, giving in. He wrapped his hand around the back of Dust's neck and kissed him again, deeper this time. Dust moaned, the quiet sound loud in the gardens, but he didn't care. They were together.

A wandering hand trailed down his body, coming to paw gently at the dead space under his shirt. Horror broke their kiss, a little breathless this time, a small smile on his face. He chuckled, "I, uh, never told you but...I liked that silly ecto-belly you made while you worked. Always thought it made you look...well fed."

Oh, alright then. That wasn't difficult. Dust pulled on his magic to fulfill Horror's request. Immediately, the hand that had curled into his shirt began to trace against the slight bulge. Horror let his hand squish against the soft, pliable magic, and let out a pleased sigh before bringing his other hand down to indulge as well.

Horror lowered himself down Dust's body to inhale the scent of his magic. He pressed his face into the warmth of it, mouthing at it, and Dust instinctively tensed in preparation for a bite. But the pain never came. Instead, hands wandered across the expanse of magic, nearly reverent in their touch, leaving a tingling across the false-flesh that brought a flush to his face.

He hesitantly brought a hand to cradle the back of Horror's skull, petting him and encouraging more. Yes, more, that's good.

"I had...a dream. Towards the end. This belly of yours...I wanted to fill it up..." Horror whispered so quietly that Dust strained to hear the confession. He was at a loss for words, suddenly unsure. It felt less and less like a sexual thing and more like...something he wasn't quite sure what to call.

**_"He's making himself vulnerable. Keep going."_**

He was used to Not-Papyrus's ramblings, but Horror must have sensed a subtle change in him because his attention was suddenly drawn upward. Dust quickly pulled the straw hat down enough to hide whatever expression he wore, "That sounds...mighty fine. I wanna feel ya' in me." 

Horror hummed a pleased noise before trailing his hands around Dust's backside, where bone met ecto, and running his fingers slowly up his spine, "Never heard a spine pop as much as yours..." Horror dug his fingers against the tight cartilage, rubbing an ache from them that Dust didn't realize he'd been carrying.

"Oh..." Dust felt his eyes threatening to slip shut as the other's talented hands began to work him over. Of all the things he expected from tonight, this was the farthest from it. These quiet whispers and gentle touches were doing things to him that their usual rough sex never did. It was rather...nice.

Dust leaned his chin against Horror's shoulder as the hands across his back continued their thorough exploration. He sighed in pleasure as they rubbed firmly up to his cervical spine before trailing off to brush across the back of his ribs. His cool fingers soothed the days-old ache he was still feeling as the tips gently trailed along him, feeling out the sharp ridges of the cut bone.

There was a sudden chill in the air that sent a shiver down him, sending a twinge of alarm across his instincts. Damn, perhaps Nightmare had come for them. All good things must come to an end. He looked to the side, preparing himself to be pulled away from the delightful company he was tangled in.

Except nobody was there.

Huh, that was strange. He considered his sensitivity to mood and intent a rather useful survival skill. But they were most definitely still alone; the only company coming from the one-sided screen that would remain until Error's departure. He looked at Horror, and was startled to see he had been staring rather intensely at him.

Dust quickly dropped his gaze, letting the hat obscure his vision, "Heh, uh, what do ya' say we have our fun now, pumpkin?" He'd lost a bit of the inflection in his voice and cursed himself for losing focus. He lightly snapped the waistband of Horror's shorts.

Horror took the end of the straw hat between his fingers and tilted it backwards until Dust's face was exposed. He leaned in to whisper, "I think that sounds good. Make a nice cock for me, will you?"

"A-wait, but you said-"

Horror kissed him to silence his stuttering, "Problem?"

"No, of course not," Horror grinned and pulled back enough to shimmy himself out of his shorts while Dust reshaped his magic. He had assumed that the larger monster had meant to take him. No matter, it wasn't an issue to switch it up. He pulled the magic forward into his palm, giving a few strokes to solidify it.

**_"You worried he won't bother fucking you if you have the wrong junk? You already aren't worth it normally."_**

"Yeah, that's perfect," Horror had formed his own jutting magic and resumed his place straddling the other, helping to tug his shorts down enough past the ecto that they wouldn't interfere. He replaced Dust's hand with his own, not hesitating to start a firm steady pace.

"You know, I really liked it there...that stupid farm," He rubbed his thumb firmly under the base of the tip, encouraging fluid to leak down and smooth the glide of his hand.

"Mmph...H-Horror..."

"If those humans hadn't threatened you...I wouldn't have had to kill them," his voice was a smooth tease that sent a shudder through him despite the dark nature of it. He couldn't deny that the thought of Horror killing a few pesky humans didn't just send a pleasant throb down him. He always considered Horror a protector, vilified for doing what needed to be done for his loved ones. He deserved better.

"You just- _oohh_ , w-were keeping us safe-"

"I'd do it again. And again," Dust keened as Horror punctuated the statement with a firm squeeze. "Yeah, need you good and hard for me. Think you're ready?"

Dust nodded, his mind foggy with the relentless pace set by the other skeleton. If Horror did intend on taking him multiple times, he would probably be a numb pile of bones by the time they were done. It wasn't an unappealing thought.

Horror raised himself onto his knees, sliding the opening of his pelvis over the top of Dust's weeping member. Dust watched wide-eyed as Horror lowered himself onto him, grabbing their cocks together in his hand through the missing barrier of magic that Horror didn't possess.

"H-Haah...oh, fu-mmph!" Dust struggled to keep his hips still, rather unsuccessfully, but Horror seemed pleased to watch him writhe. The empty expanse of Horror's pelvis may no longer be able to form certain parts, but there were still lines of magic that thrummed with delightful charge. It was similar to reaching into their ribs or skull, physically possible, but not without sensation.

And what a sensation it was, like a barely-there vibration of an engine that couldn't quite start. It engulfed him, along with Horror's hand, and was bringing him shamefully close with just this. He brought a shaking hand to the hat, covering himself and struggling to think of something, anything to say to keep the scene alive. But he couldn't focus past how good Horror felt, the firm pressure of his pubic bone hooked around him, keeping them locked together.

"You haven't been well..." Horror mumbled.

"Heh...ah, don't ya' fret...sweet pea...arm is jus' fine...I can take over for ya'-" Dust choked up as Horror thumbed across the tip of his dick, sending another sharp shudder through him. He moved to place a shaking hand over Horror's but found it pushed aside, leaving him to grasp onto his sweater for purchase.

"You aren't...taking care of yourself..."

**_"Hah, isn't that cute."_**

"W-What-?" He could feel his impending climax and tried to push it back, to hold off, but Horror didn't allow it. He worked them together, grinding his pelvis against him until Dust cried out, tensing as he came in a mess between the two of them.

His body was shaking with the intensity of the aftershocks pulsing through him. He curled against Horror, clinging to him as he rode out the pleasure.

"I've got you now," Horror pushed on, his grip tightening as the splayed magic on his hand only encouraged him, pushing Dust into the dregs of overstimulation.

"Ah-wait...w-wait!" Dust grabbed at Horror's arm but the effort was in vain as the stronger monster ignored his plea. His gasped, his body attempting to pull back but Dust quickly realized that with how they were hooked together it was impossible. Horror had him, his magic captive until he decided otherwise.

**_"He tricked you! You stupid, filthy whore! Get yourself out of this!"_**

Horror pushed in closer, pressing himself against the belly that Dust still carried. Dust moaned as he was dragged closer to the edge, carried from the previous climax without mercy. He could still feel the pulsating of magic from within Horror's pelvis, relentless in his intent to push Dust beyond his sensibilities. It made him dizzy, a wave of euphoria that was similar to when Killer cut him.

Horror knocked the straw hat away, leaving Dust feeling shockingly exposed. When he tried to avert his gaze, Horror gripped him by the chin, demanding his focus. "You're stuck...here," he poked Dust against his skull, "...I'll help quiet things."

"But-what about the farmer?" For the first time, Horror stopped the movement of his hand and Dust barely restrained himself from thrusting into it. His eye held an amused glow to it, as if Dust had stated something rather ridiculous.

"Hn...It's not him I want to be with right now," Horror leaned in and kissed him, resuming his previous motions. Dust whimpered as he was brought to another intense orgasm.

And past it.

The quiet of the garden seemed to swallow Dust's cries as Horror kept him close. Time became meaningless, Dust's mind sinking into the fuzzy pleasant nothingness he often sought. At some point he'd been stripped bare and laid into the grass, although he couldn't remember it happening. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard the recognizable chittering of bones and whimpering. Before conscious thought could replace it, he was drawn into another's embrace, overcome with warmth and positive intent unlike he'd ever felt in this state.

Perhaps he wouldn't need Killer's punishments after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brain: You barely had any kink...that's the whole point of the fic...  
> Me without sleep: Better luck next time! :D


	5. Dinner with Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A perfectly normal dinner...with Nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments! I love reading them and I swear I'm working up to everyone's awesome recommendations!

Nightmare had summoned them for dinner. 

It wasn't exactly unusual in of itself; he occasionally did when they had business to discuss. Sometimes he called on them and merely...enjoyed a meal in their company? That was more bizarre, and Cross found himself tense and silent most of those nights, still unsure how to relax around their imposing Boss. He wouldn't consider himself new here. It had been almost a year now since he'd moved in! But every time he spent more than a few minutes around Nightmare he found himself glaring a hole into the floor, back as straight as a board, and desperately waiting to be dismissed.

The others teased him mercilessly about it. Told him to relax a bit and learn to enjoy the Boss's attention. Pfft, easy for them to say. Cross felt he had more to prove; that he had to show Nightmare that it wasn't a mistake to take him in when he could have so easily left him to rot in the anti-void. They told him he was being ridiculous, that Nightmare wouldn't have let him in at all if he hadn't already accepted him. But still...he watched as they told him jokes, shared meals, sought his praise...

Shared his bed.

He shook his head, willing away the flush he felt spread across his face. Killer had asked him before why he didn't simply ' _Kneel and show devotion with your tongue,'_ which earned him a hard smack to the back of the skull. It wasn't that he wasn't interested...he'd seen the way Nightmare looked at him, his all-knowing gaze, his dark and inviting smirk; all Cross had to do was accept. But instead, he kept his head down, listening as the others indulged in what he denied himself.

He absently pushed open the door to the dining hall, his eyelights already trained on the floor even before entering. Pathetic. He huffed in annoyance at himself, lifting his head to meet his cohorts.

Nightmare was already there, in his seat at the head of the table. Dust and Horror sat together on their normal side, which would be across from Killer and Cross. Except Killer's chair was gone. His space at Nightmare's side simply ceased to be. It sent a wave of dread down Cross's spine. Everything Nightmare did was plain and efficient. If Killer would no longer be joining them...

Dust and Horror were looking at him, their expressions tense. He could see the question in Dust's glare. _Have you seen him today?_ Cross gave a small shake of his head, forcing himself to sit at the table. The space to his left felt painfully devoid. He tried to ignore it, waiting for the Boss to say something. 

Anything.

Did he call them together to tell them Killer was dead?

He had to ask; the silence was unbearable. He couldn't sit and wait for it to be announced. He opened his mouth to speak--

And was promptly cut off as the door opened once again, the sound snapping his head upright. Killer whistled nonchalantly as he approached, twirling a knife between his fingers as always. Everyone sighed, the thick tension that had built diffusing. Cross barely resisted placing his face against his palm in annoyance; moments like _this_ were why it was hard to relax around Nightmare.

"Hey Boss, sorry I'm late," Killer sauntered up to the table, looking completely unapologetic. "Shit, you guys look like you've seen a ghost," he laughed, standing beside Cross to casually drape an arm across his shoulder. He paused to look around, as if only just noticing that his chair was missing. "Aw, Boss, what did I do this time? Musta been bad if I don't even get to sit anymore."

Nightmare hummed, and Cross only just noticed how pleased he looked. Was all this his version of a joke? Something to rile them? He really needed a lesson in his humor if that was the case. Or were they all so jaded that they naturally jumped to the worst conclusion over the simplest of things?

"On the contrary. You've done so well that I felt you deserved another place tonight," Nightmare pointed a dark finger downward, indicating the floor at his side.

_'Um...what?'_

Cross felt his face flush and his mind short circuit simultaneously. If he hadn't already been staring at the floor, he may not have seen how quickly Killer dropped to his knees beside Nightmare, not even a moment of hesitation at the silent command. Nightmare's hand grazed across the side of Killer's skull and Cross could see him lean into the gentle touch.

Nightmare smirked, "Good boy."

An entirely different tension arose at the praise. Dust and Horror had matching expressions of shock and Cross couldn't imagine what his own face betrayed in that moment. But Killer...well, if he was a dog monster, his tail would be wagging with how pleased he looked.

"Now, eat. We've accomplished a great deal these past few weeks and some indulgence is in order tonight."

He hadn't even realized there was food prepared at the table: strips of cooked meat, bread, fruit, and was that a little bowl of chocolate sauce? Nightmare wasn't kidding when he said they were indulging; this was far more extravagant than they normally made themselves. It must have been torture on Horror to sit in front of all this for any length of time without eating.

As soon as Nightmare took a portion for himself the others followed suit. Dinner wasn't normally a formal affair, even when the Boss was present, but the lingering shock of Killer's position left them unsure of exactly what was coming. If Killer was hungry, it didn't show, as he seemed content to keep his eyes on Nightmare as he sliced an apple.

Cross felt himself tensing the longer it went on. He was awkward at best during a normal dinner, let alone whatever this was. Nightmare bit into one of his slices nonchalantly, the juice running down his fingers, mingling with the corruption that perpetually covered him. How did it taste? Was it similar to what dripped from Killer's eyes? Cross had licked that up a few times, in moments of passion, and was surprised to find it didn't taste like much of anything. But Nightmare's ooze was directly connected with his magic, wasn't it? He bet it tasted distinctly like him, but he'd never asked Killer what Nightmare tasted like--

"Cross."

He jumped in his seat at the sound of the Boss's smooth voice.

Nightmare chuckled lowly, holding his gaze, "You haven't touched your food. Is something the matter?"

Oh fuck, he'd been staring at them like an idiot. He tried to recuperate, to find the words, but his mind was stuck on _'Wanted to know what you'd taste like'_ and he would sooner die than say that. Instead, he grabbed a roll and quickly stuffed his mouth to prevent any accidental confessions.

Nightmare turned his attention down towards Killer. He took a bite from a slice of his apple and slowly brought the remaining piece down in front of Killer's mouth. He obediently opened up, letting Nightmare push the offered fruit onto the tongue that Cross could now see he'd conjured.

There was a little choked off noise from across the table. Horror's good eye was wide watching the display, his hand reflexively drawn to grasp against the other socket.

"I've been doing some light reading today," Nightmare's tentacles drew forth the book that Cross instantly recognized as Killer's journal of illicit sexual activities. "Killer, I saw you writing in this last night. I was curious what had captured your attention so thoroughly, so I took this from your jacket after you fell asleep. I must say, it wasn't at all what I expected." Cross fought the guilty flush that threatened to erupt, remembering how he'd perused the pages himself not long ago. 

Nightmare held another piece of fruit in front of Killer, this time forcing him to lean forward to chase it before rewarding him with it.

"What surprised me most though were your own notes," Nightmare casually held another piece down towards Killer, but pulled it away just as he made to bite it. Horror made a pained noise in response, having forgone his own meal in order to lean across the table to watch. His mouth hung open slightly, tongue wet from watching the tortuously slow feeding.

Nightmare removed an attached post-it from the page, Killer's handwriting on display for everyone, " _Petplay, train submissive partner to follow commands. Buy collar from Fellverse for Cross."_

Cross choked on his roll. Nightmare popped the remaining apple into his own mouth, chewing and humming as he skimmed through the pages in front of him. One of his tentacles ripped a slice of meat to dangle in front of Killer. Ever obediently, he stuck his tongue out and waited until the tender morsel was placed upon it.

"Don't eat it," Nightmare stopped on a page with another sticky note. "Ah, yes, this one was interesting. ' _Brat taming. Dust or Nightmare?'"_

Dust gasped quietly, his eyes darting between the two in front of him. Cross could see him tilt his head slightly, a motion he recognized when he listened to whatever madness was whispering to him.

Nightmare leaned over to drag his fingertips across the side of Killer's face, trailing them under his chin. "Now, did you mean to imply that I'm a brat in need of taming?"

Killer nodded, holding Nightmare's gaze.

Cross felt his chest tighten. At this rate, Killer wouldn't be needing his chair back after all.

Nightmare smiled, a dangerous thing, "And who could tame me? You?"

Killer nodded again.

Nightmare chuckled as he leaned back, his pleased look promising Killer would either be rewarded for his forwardness or punished for it. Which one, Cross wasn't sure. 

He glanced across the table. Dust's face was flushed. At Horror's quiet whimper beside him, he rolled his jacket sleeve up and held his arm out. Horror gratefully took the offered limb and began chewing on it, completely forgetting about the food in front of him. He was staring at the meat that Killer held on his tongue, his body already attempting to absorb bits of it as juice and drool dribbled down his chin the longer he sat still.

" _Restraints - consult with Horror. Somnophilia - interest for Dust? Abduction - a surprise for Error_ ," Nightmare raised a brow at the last one, glancing at the monster on the floor, who shrugged.

"Under piercings you simply wrote ' _Crossy_ ' with lots of little souls around his name." Cross buried his face in his hands and groaned.

"F-Fuck Boss, come on! Let him eat it! Please-!" Horror's outburst drew everyone's attention, with the exception of Killer, who refused to take his eyes off Nightmare.

"Ah, of course. You may eat it now, Killer." With permission granted, Killer snapped the food into his mouth, a heavy sigh of relief coming from Horror. 

"But there was one thing in particular that caught my attention," he absently flipped a few pages before placing a finger down on one, "Yes, this. You had a concern. It reads, _'How can I worship Nightmare's boots when he wears slippers?'_ Well, let me offer you some reassurance," Nightmare leaned back against his chair and raised a leg, placing it to rest on Killer's shoulder, "...what I'm wearing is of no difference. So, with that in mind, go right ahead. Worship me."

Killer's eyes were soft and wide, a light flush covering his face. He tentatively brought his hands to rest on the bones of Nightmare's leg, as if he was a delicate and precious thing. He let his eyes slip shut as he ran his fingers along them, leaning his face against it and taking a moment to simply enjoy what he'd been given.

It always struck a chord within Cross to see Killer like this. He and Nightmare held a deeper relationship than most and to be able to watch them together was...a lot. 

Killer slowly kissed down the leg in his possession, lightly fingering the cloth of his sock. He took a moment to nuzzle against the slipper in question before placing a reverent kiss atop it.

"Yes, that's good," Nightmare's pleased voice sent a harsh shiver down Cross's spine. 

Without warning a tentacle shot out and wrapped around Dust, pulling him from Horror's startled grasp and dragging him onto his knees at Nightmare's other side. Dust's eyes darted around manically until Nightmare grabbed his chin, forcing him to meet his gaze.

"Haven't I told you that it's rude to bring uninvited guests to dinner?"

Cross thought that restricting Dust like that would have set him off, send him into a manic episode, but he was surprised to see his shoulders slouch, a tension releasing that he'd grown accustomed to always seeing him wear.

"Sorry 'bout that, Boss. He's not been too noisy lately so I forgot," Dust said.

Nightmare hummed thoughtfully, his grip on Dust's chin turning into a gentle brush down his neck, "I'm aware that you've managed to keep him quiet lately. Regardless, you also deserve to enjoy some respite. And I intend to make sure we aren't interrupted tonight. Horror, come here."

It was becoming rather intimate, watching the way Nightmare's hands so easily trailed along each of them. On nights when Cross found himself alone, he wondered how those hands would feel on him. To be held by smooth tentacles while those hands discovered all his weaknesses. It was an impossible feeling to simulate, and left him desperately working himself to an unsatisfying finish more than once.

He lowered his eyes from the tender scene instinctively only to see that Killer had removed Nightmare's sock and slipper altogether. He was running his tongue between the spaces of his metatarsals.

_'Kneel and show devotion with your tongue.'_

The words in his head brought a furious blush to Cross's face. He turned away, staring at the table in front of him. He could feel the pooling wetness in his shorts and barely resisted grinding his hips against the chair for some stimulation.

"You haven't been eating as of late. Why is that?" Nightmare questioned Horror, who stood anxiously beside the still-entangled Dust.

"Hn...been eatin' fine, I swear, Boss."

"Oh? Then why did you choose to chew on Dust instead of eating your meal?" Nightmare leaned his chin against his hand, watching as Horror squirmed under his scrutiny.

"Uh, just-kinda got distracted. Killer looked real good."

Speaking of Killer, he'd moved his way back up Nightmare's leg, cradling the extremity against his shoulder while letting wandering fingers skirt their way up into his shorts. Nightmare seemed unaffected, not even sparing a glance downward. The only indication he'd noticed at all was the faint cyan that peeked through the layer of corruption.

Oh my god, Nightmare was _blushing_. Cross wanted to bury his face into his pillow and scream.

When had he started watching them again? Fuck, this was turning into a pervy complex of his.

But another tentacle had wrapped around Horror's waist and pulled him right onto Nightmare's lap, leaving him awkwardly straddling the leg that Killer wasn't preoccupied with. Cross stopped breathing. Killer had once whispered to him that he'd fucked the Boss on his throne, and the thought plagued him for weeks after. It probably looked similar to this, all deliciously squirming tentacles and hips stretched painfully wide as he lowered himself onto Nightmare's hard--

"You were distracted thinking I would neglect to feed Killer, weren't you?" Even with the way Nightmare had to look up to meet Horror's eyelight, it did nothing to diminish the obvious power he asserted over the moment.

"No! No, you would never-"

"What have I told you, Horror?" 

"That...no one goes hungry here..."

"Yes, that's right," Nightmare took a strip of meat into his hand and held it in offering, "No one goes hungry. You're becoming preoccupied with the others and neglecting yourself. I need your strength. So, eat."

Horror looked desperately at the food. With shaking hands, he cupped Nightmare's hand and leaned down to feed from his palm like a monster starved of it. Nightmare pet the back of his neck as he did so, whispering quiet encouragements until every bit was devoured. Horror licked his hand clean of the juice left behind, never one to let a drop go to waste. A quiet intake of breath from Nightmare led Cross to see that Killer was watching them intently, his hand noticeably rubbing against the Boss's pelvis. There was no way that Horror didn't feel it, in the position they were in. Cross barely fought the urge to drop his own hand into his shorts.

"I'd like you to assist me in something tonight. Tell me, have you heard of this?" The tentacle holding Killer's book moved in front of Horror.

"Subspace...no, dunno what that is," Horror stated.

"I think you'll find you know more about it than you believe. I'd like to bring Dust there tonight, with your help," the tentacle around Dust squeezed him and the skeleton gasped. Horror's confusion turned to a sly smirk, intrigued with the promise of a good time.

"Yeah, 'course Boss. You can count on me."

"I know. Take some food to my chambers. Let Dust feed you. And keep him distracted until I arrive," Nightmare released his hold on the two of them. A chill overcame the room as he opened a dark portal, presumably to his bedroom. Cross could only imagine what the inside looked like...

Horror stood, grabbing the bowl of fruit and tossing one to Dust, who watched him closely as he backed towards the portal.

"Heh, you heard the Boss. Gotta keep you distracted," Horror chuckled, stalking towards him.

Dust's eye glowed as his smile turned manic, tearing apart the orange with his clawed hands and messily biting into it, letting an excess of juice trail down his neck, "Good luck. I don't think it's gonna be easy for you."

Horror growled, a hand snatching Dust's jacket as he was pulled through the gateway.

The room was suddenly quiet and Cross took a shaky breath to settle himself. Killer re-situated himself, removing his hands in favor of crawling between Nightmare's knees. He rest his head on his lap, and Cross could have sworn he heard a quiet purr as Nightmare ran his hands across his skull.

"I hope you're quite satisfied," Nightmare commented as he continued his soothing motions.

"Heh, not at all. I haven't even begun to properly worship you."

"Well, perhaps next time you'll leave a few more explicit notes of what you'd like so I can narrow things down a bit."

"I don't know what you mean by that, Boss," Killer stated, all false innocence.

Nightmare cupped his cheek to pull him upward until their foreheads were touching, "Oh no? Must have been my imagination that you left this book in your jacket instead of your inventory on the same night you waited in my bed for me."

"An interesting coincidence," Killer kissed him briefly, unable to hold himself back. Cross clenched his eyes shut, clutching at his chair until it was over. This wasn't for him, even though he so badly wanted it. But he still had so much to _prove._

He would return to his room. He knew it would be empty tonight. And that was fine. He simply had to be patient. With time and hard work, things could be different.

With how Killer had eyes for only Nightmare all evening, he wasn't expecting to be roughly grabbed and dragged up from his chair, chest to chest with the grinning skeleton.

"Crossy, come on now. You're gonna upset the Boss if you keep this up."

"W-Wait, I-"

But Nightmare was behind him, tentacles sandwiching him between the two of them, and he couldn't help the whimper that escaped him as he felt the set of hands drag across the back of his ribs and settle on his shoulders.

"Do you enjoy teasing me, Cross?"

"What? No-!"

He felt teeth drag across the back of his neck and he reflexively grabbed onto Killer's arms to steady himself. Kiss or bite, he wanted it and he knew Killer could read every expression on his face.

"All this unsatisfied desire and guilt you have... I draw a lot of negativity from you. You deny yourself and in turn you deny me. Is that what you wished?"

"No, Boss," his voice was barely a whisper, a plead.

"Then join us. You don't have anything left to prove. You belong here. I want you. Let me have you, Cross."

It felt so good to be between them, and to hear the words he'd wanted for so long. He felt his walls crumbling and he couldn't fight it any longer. And suddenly Killer was kissing him, and he knew it was the final push he needed.

They broke apart and Cross was already dizzy from it all.

"Yeah... I want it. Please..."

Nightmare spun him around and he barely had time to gasp before he was consumed in another kiss. He no longer had to wonder what it felt like to be wrapped in those tentacles, a bony hand against the back of his head holding him as Nightmare plunged into his mouth without hesitation. Cross moaned, his knees felt weak, but Nightmare's hold on him was tight.

He never wanted to be anywhere else.

"Ohh, this is a good one. Horror's gonna thank me for that," Killer's chuckle broke the pair apart. He was reading through a page of his book before realizing they were staring at him. "Hm, oh don't mind me, please continue. I'm just thrilled to see there's twenty uses for chocolate sauce in here. Twenty!" 

He grabbed the little bowl off the table and eagerly stepped towards the portal. Nightmare let go of Cross to hiss at him, "You'll make a mess of the bed!"

Killer giggled with maniacal glee, "Not just the bed!" He stepped through, Nightmare chasing behind him for damage control.

Cross's soul felt light and bubbly and he rubbed at his chest to will it away. He wasn't some kid in stripes with his first crush. But he was smiling, and he didn't think that would stop anytime tonight.

He glanced at the book Killer left behind, curious as to what exactly they were in store for. He noticed a frayed bit of page sticking out of the bottom and flipped to it, only to see frayed bits up the entire spine.

Huh, did Killer rip a page out?

"Coming, Cross?" Nightmare held his hand out to him. Cross nodded eagerly, taking the offered hand and letting himself be led away.


	6. Piercings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun with ecto!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this one was quite a bit of fun to write XD
> 
> Thank you for such wonderful comments on the last chapter! It fills me with determination! <3
> 
> Please enjoy this chapter!

"Turn him a little more towards me. Yeah, just like that, that's good."

The new angle provided him with a great view of Cross's face, all flushed and aroused, as Killer cupped his breast and played with the weight in his hand. His thumb occasionally brushed across the nipple, leaving it stiff and perky. Dust made sure to get a close up of it on the camera before panning back out.

They made a pretty picture together, on their knees, ecto-formed, and plastered tight against each other in a rather intense make out session. Killer was doing his best to get the upper hand over Cross, but apparently the young guard was feeling rather invigorated today and was giving him a run for his money. Their tongues tangled for dominance, and as Killer wormed his way into the other's mouth for a taste, Cross clamped down, sucking against the invasive appendage.

They moaned together as their teeth clacked, and even during the brief moments that the pair broke apart for breath, Dust could see the mixing colors of their magic; a pretty swirl of red and purple.

Yeah, this video was gonna be hot as fuck.

Killer squeezed the breast in his hand and Cross's bony fingertips scratched down his backside in response. Dust smirked and leaned back to watch the show; he was rather enjoying this fiesty side of Cross, if the way his cock was straining against his shorts was any indication.

Killer shuddered with the pain and attached his teeth to the side of Cross's neck to offer some payback.

"Ah-haah..."

Those little breathy noises that Cross made when he was really getting into it were starting to set him off. Cross was lucky he agreed to film for them because otherwise he might be inclined to strap that pretty ass down to the bed and _really_ get some noise out of him.

And speaking of a pretty ass... _hot damn_ Killer.

That red piece of ecto was fucking perfect.

Not that many of them were inclined to cover their bones often, it tended to be more of a liability than anything else, but Killer was even less so. He made the bare minimum for screwing around and was otherwise content for some rough boning. But apparently he'd loosened up a bit because he'd gone all-fucking-out for today's activities. Perky little breasts, a lithe torso, that beautiful round piece of false meat that Dust wanted to sink his teeth into, and even a pair of thick thighs that looked like they could crush Cross between them without so much as a blink of effort.

And the very best of it all was that the pair had agreed to match. Which left Cross covered in a lovely coloring of purple ecto, much the same as Killer's.

Speaking of which, one of Cross's hands seemed to get antsy, wandering south to squeeze shamelessly at Killer's ass.

_'That's right, get a good handful of that,'_ Dust focused his camera on the naughty hand as it felt out the dangerously voluptuous backside. His fingers traced along Killer's sacrum, teasing the ecto in the same fashion that he would normally tease the sacral holes. They trailed further, dipping down into the folds, feeling out the unusual curves.

"Heh, you like it when I wear this skin suit, Crossy?" Killer ceased his teasing in favor of grabbing Cross by the waist and pulling them fully together from hip to chest. Their breasts squished together, leaving nearly no room for the soul that floated between them. Dust tensed; things could go from sexy to ugly real fast if they misstepped with Killer's soul. Cross seemed to be paying attention though, leaning back enough to look Killer in the face.

"Not when you call it that. That's just weird," Cross smirked, placing a chaste kiss on the other's teeth. Killer's grin sharpened and he pressed their foreheads together, ready to pick up their fiery make out session where it left off.

Dust cleared his throat to get their attention, "As entertaining as it would be to watch you hate-fuck each other, you may want to continue with the planned activities..."

They'd actually started before bringing out the camera, to make sure there were no (heh) kinks in their setup.

With a final nip, Killer laid against the stack of three pillows, tossing his arms behind his head and putting himself on display for them. He splayed his legs, an open invitation for Cross to scoot between them. It also gave Dust the perfect chance to capture the pretty little bead they'd inserted right above his clitoris.

Killer said he wanted to go all-out, since the jewelry wouldn't stay when their ecto disappeared. He'd procured some kit with all these little needles and inserts and a bunch of jewelry options to go with it. They'd originally asked Dust to oversee and ensure they didn't screw up the piercings, as if he had any experience with this, but when they realized it was fairly straight forward, he was promoted to cameraman. That was more than fine with him; he got to sit back and watch them do all the work and when everything was said and done, he was going to fuck the shit out of one of them. He hadn't decided which one yet, it was good to keep his options open. Besides, he hadn't mentioned his payment to them yet, so there was no rush for him to decide.

**_'Why just one when you could have both?'_ **

Dust hummed agreeably. Not a bad idea at all, Not-Papyrus.

Cross had taken hold of Killer's nipple, a too-serious look on his face as he prepared to puncture him. He glanced up, "Ready?"

Killer's responded by sticking his tongue out, waging his tongue piercing suggestively at him. Cross's face softened and he chuckled, mimicking the action and showing off the little bead at the end of his own tongue. He refocused, pushing the needle through. To his credit, he didn't jump at all when Killer let out an obnoxiously fake moan.

"Oh! Crossy-yeah! Hurt me!"

"Shut up, Killer."

He cackled, looking down excitedly as Cross finished screwing the sparkling bead on the end of the barbell. Cross did a final check to make sure it was secured and moved on to the other side. As he worked, Killer grabbed his own breast in hand, showing it off for the camera.

"Hey, Horror! How do ya' like this little decoration, huh?"

"Nice shot. Too bad we couldn't live-feed it to him," Dust said.

"It'll give him something to watch a few times over until he gets back," Killer looked over to see his other side was already finished, a cute matching set. "What the _fuck_ Cross, I barely felt that at all!"

"It's not supposed to hurt, you fucking masochist!"

Killer sighed dramatically, "I wanted to get another taste of your needle work," he looked back to the camera, "You see, Horror, our innocent Crossy here does this amazing thing to your sacrum-"

Cross quickly covered Killer's mouth, face heavily flushed. Dust laughed, "Cross, you devil. Maybe we can get a few more videos outta you. Now, switch it up, you two."

Killer made to sit up, but stopped when Cross didn't move. He tilted his head in question.

"I, um- I'd like to..." his fingers traced lightly across the side of Killer's breast. 

Blank eyes watched the movement for a moment before the intention clicked. Killer smirked, "Of course you can play with them. Here, let me help you out a bit." His hand moved to grasp his soul and pull it aside. He kept it caged within his hand as it tried to gravitate back to its natural position.

With the sensitive organ safely contained, Cross delved in with both hands, squeezing the lovely samples of freshly pierced ecto. He toyed with the barbells, pulling against them with light tension until Killer let out a pleased sigh. Cross whined quietly, unable to help himself, and squished the breasts together, bringing his face down in between them.

Killer encouraged him with a hand on the back of his skull, "Yeah, baby, that's right. You fucking love it."

" _Mmm-hate yooou,"_ came the muffled reply as he nuzzled against the soft mounds. He moved to take one into his mouth, sucking lightly against it before brushing his tongue carefully against the fresh piercing. The bead in his tongue dragged against the overly sensitive nipple in little kitten licks, occasionally catching against the barbell.

"Oh fuck...that's nice-" Killer shivered visibly. Dust cursed under his breath, shifting in his seat for a better view. He could see Killer struggling to keep his hips from rocking, the stimulation probably making him wish he had something thick and hard buried deep in him-

**_'Take him.'_ **

With one last firm squeeze, Cross released him. As he made to pull back, Killer cupped the sides of his face and kissed him, "Mmm, you're turn." 

Killer switched with him, pushing Cross's knees apart to settle in between them. As he took the breast in hand and pulled his needle forward, Cross tensed, cringing as the sensitive flesh was punctured with one swift motion from the deft hands. Dust hummed to himself as Killer finished up that side; Cross was making an ugly face, even as Killer moved to relax him by gently rubbing the other nipple back to a stiff peak. He obviously didn't enjoy the painful sensation the same way Killer did and each further piercing they did seemed to put him more on edge.

Well, that wouldn't do. He was on camera after all. He had to look his best!

Dust made to speak up but Killer was a step ahead of him. He stabbed the needle into the pillow beside Cross's head, causing him to startle. Without warning, he grabbed him by the hips and yanked him down the sheets, pulling him flat onto his back.

"Wha-Killer!?"

He wrapped his arms around the firm thighs, tilting Cross's hips up as he lowered his head between them to lick a stripe directly up the middle of his pussy.

"Ngh!!" Cross threw his head back, gripping the other's skull in his hands in surprise. 

"Uh-uh, none of that. I can't see anything," Dust slid onto the bed at Cross's head and pulled one of his hands off Killer's head, holding it against the bed. He was whimpering desperately with the sudden onslaught, but Dust's intent leaked through enough that he brought his other shaking hand down to claw at the sheets.

"Yeah, good shit. Work him real nice, Killer..." Dust stroked the side of Cross's face as he filmed. Killer gave a quick smirk to the camera before delving back down.

As with everything he did, Killer was relentless, toying with the intimate piercing with his tongue, letting it tap against the twitching clit mercilessly. He moaned in blissful satisfaction, squeezing the legs in his hands like a happy cat as he let his mouth run wild.

"K-Killer, wait! I'm not gonna-" Cross was cut off with a gasp as Killer wormed his tongue into him, deeper with every languid stroke.

He licked his teeth, stained purple with the other's dripping magic, "Hmm, Crossy, you taste so fuckin' good. You don't gotta last, baby, I know you're a quick finish."

"Fuck you!" Cross sobbed with the sudden loss of touch and Dust knew from his trembling that he was close.

"Hey it's not a bad thing-"

_Lick._

"-it just means that I get to have my fun with you-"

_Lick._

"-over..."

_Lick._

"...and over."

With his goal in mind, Killer ceased his teasing to flick the bead in his tongue in quick succession until Cross cried out, grabbing onto Dust as he was hit with a forceful climax. Aftershocks wracked through him, leaving him shaking as he held on for purchase. Killer quickly sat up, pushing Cross's legs apart as they tried to drift shut.

"Not so fast, Crossy!" He shoved three fingers into him, curling them roughly against the inner walls. Cross screamed, his back arching as he clawed at the monster behind him.

"AH! Wait! Wait-!"

"No! I want you again! Come for me again!" If Killer had eyelights, they'd be glowing with frenzied delight. He thrust his fingers in and out roughly, leaving Cross a sputtering mess. The force of Killer against him left him pushed into Dust's lap.

"Holy shit..." Dust could see the wetness of unshed tears gathering in his sockets and dragged his fingertips through them so they spilled over. Cross's skull was rubbing against his aching cock but he remained still, letting the teasing pressure of it build him further up. It would make for a good time soon.

**_'If his crying annoys you, there are better uses for his mouth."_ **

_'Nah, he's pretty like this. I want to play with him.'_

Dust brought his hand down and cupped his breast, toying with the piercing. He pulled against it, gradually tugging with more force as Cross twist helplessly in his lap. He could feel the magical charge running through Cross's bones, his own flushed in sympathy as Killer pushed him past overstimulation and into another wracking orgasm.

"That's right, baby. So fuckin' good for me," Killer removed his fingers, and bit roughly against the ecto of Cross's abdomen. The spent skeleton dropped his arms, boneless and exhausted, little whimpering pants emitting as Killer continued to shower him with marks.

Killer growled, low and hungry, as he roughed up the placid monster underneath him. He was so consumed with it that he didn't notice the movement until he was grabbed by the shoulders and shoved further onto the bed and off of Cross. Dust had shed himself of his jacket and tossed the camera aside. His eye was glowing with pent up excitement and trained on Killer.

"Heh, you're looking a little riled up there, Dust-Bunny," Killer's eyes dripped as the familiar tinge of LV momentarily thrummed through his bones.

"What can I say? Cross looks a little tapped out so I thought I'd step in to keep you...entertained."

Killer pushed himself up against Dust, who moved to grab onto the lovely ecto hips that pressed up against his bones. He wrapped his arms around Dust's neck, leaning his weight against him to whisper to the side of his skull, "Ahh, yes, he's all tired out. But look at him now. Doesn't he look good, laying there? You could do whatever you'd like to him."

Dust knew the words for what they were, but he still found himself glancing to the side at the skeleton splayed across the bedsheets. The purple ecto was wavering in his tired state; his eyes slipped shut as he rest. Dust wondered if Cross would even bother fighting back if he climbed on top of him, or if he would simply accept it and let himself be used for their enjoyment.

The distraction might have worked, if the ghost behind him wasn't as pacified or if his own LV not as settled. Too bad for Killer, who made to grab him by the back of the neck and instead found himself shoved against the bed beside Cross with Dust's weight holding him down.

"Aww buddy, what's wrong? All that heavy magic slowing you down? It's alright, I'm sure I can find a good use for all that feisty energy you've got built up. In fact, I think it just means I get to have my fun with you...over and over again," Dust cackled at his own mocking words even as Killer growled and attempted to throw him off.

And as they tore at clothes and scratched against bone, Cross was undisturbed. He mumbled tiredly, grabbing a pillow to snuggle against, oblivious to the violent wrestling for dominance beside him or the forceful rocking of the bed that followed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Horror stepped into his hotel room, locking the door behind him. He sighed, pulling off the winter hat that covered the hole in his skull, grumbling as the cotton caught on the sharp ridges of bone. Monsters and humans alike responded better to those who didn't look like the walking dead, but it was annoying to work around sometimes. At least it was winter and he had an excuse to wear a hat, but the snowstorm moving in would delay him. Probably for another few days. It sucked but he could nap through the worst of it.

He stripped, tossing his clothes to the floor before laying in the bed. He pulled out his phone to see if he could find something stupid to watch until he fell asleep.

Oh, a message from Dust. It was nice when he had enough of a signal to receive them.

He clicked on it, waiting as his phone downloaded some large file. A video opened up, revealing Dust sitting on a chair in...was that Cross's room?

_"Hey buddy. Hope it's going alright with all those pesky humans around. Remember, you can eat the annoying ones, and we'll cover you if the Boss asks."_

Horror chuckled.

_"Anyway, don't watch this unless you're alone. Now, we know you're stuck in some freezing cold shit-world, and we thought it'd be nice to help you warm up a bit. So, settle into bed, because it's just getting good over here."_

The camera panned around to reveal Killer and Cross, covered in their magic and desperately making out while groping at one another. If Horror had magic to spare, he'd have flushed at the unexpected turn of events. Instead, he grinned. 

This was much better than cartoons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have time - please vote in my poll!
> 
> Next chapter: somnophilia/drugged 'activities'  
> So...who should be the one on the receiving end? Let me know in a comment - anyone in Nightmare's gang is fair game!
> 
> Me: maybe I could make a twitter poll! Wow! That would be exciting!  
> My brain: you can't even get ao3 to work and you barely figured out how to make a twitter account.  
> Me: *shame corner*


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